现代大学英语精读3课文电子版

'.

;.

Lesson Four ：Wisdom of Bear Wood

Michael Welzenbach

1. When I was 12 years old, my family moved to England, the fourth major move in my short life. My father’s government job demanded that he go overseas every few years, so I was used to wrenching myself away from friends.

2. We rented an 18th-century farmhouse in Berkshire. Nearby were

ancient castles and churches. Loving nature, however, I was

most delighted by the endless patchwork of farms and

woodland that surrounded our house. In the deep woods that

verged against our back fence, a network of paths led almost

everywhere, and pheasants rocketed off into the dense laurels ahead as you walked.

3. I spent most of my time roaming the woods and fields alone,

playing Robin Hood, daydreaming, collecting bugs and

bird-watching. It was heaven for a boy — but a lonely heaven.

Keeping to myself was my way of not forming attachments that

I would only have to abandon the next time we moved. But one

day I became attached through no design of my own.

4. We had been in England about six months when old farmer

Crawford gave me permission to roam about his immense

property. I started hiking there every weekend, up a long,

sloping hill to an almost impenetrable stand of trees called Bear Wood. It was my secret fortress, almost a holy place, I thought.

Slipping through a barbed-wire fence, I’d leave the bright sun and the twitter and rustle of insects and animals outside and

creep into another world — a vaulted cathedral, with tree trunks for pillars and years’ accumulation of long brown needles for a softly carpeted floor. My own breathing rang in my ears, and the slightest stirring of any woodland creature echoed through this private paradise.

5. One spring afternoon I wandered near where I thought I’d

'.

;. glimpsed a pond the week before. I proceeded quietly, careful not to alarm a bird that might loudly warn other creatures to hide.

6. Perhaps this is why the frail old lady I nearly ran into was as

startled as I was. She caught her breath, instinctively touching her throat with her hand. Then, recovering quickly, she gave a welcoming smile that instantly put me at ease. A pair of

powerful-looking binoculars dangled from her neck. “Hello,

young man,” she said. “Are you American or Canadian?”

7. American, I explained in a rush, and I lived over the hill, and I

was just seeing if there was a pond, and farmer Crawford had said it was okay, and anyhow, I was on my way home, so

good-bye.

8. As I started to turn, the woman smiled and asked, “Did you see

the little owl from the wood over there today?” She pointed

toward the edge of the wood.

9. She knew about the owls? I was amazed.

10. “No,” I replied, “but I’ve seen them before. Never close though.

They always see me first.”

11. The woman laughed. “Yes, they’re wary,” she said. “But then,

gamekeepers have been shooting them ever since they got here.

They’re introduced, you know, not native.”

12. “They’re not?” I asked, fascinated. Anybody who knew this

sort of stuff was definitely cool — even if she was trespassing in my special place.

13. “Oh, no!” she answered, laughing again. “At home I have

books on birds that explain all about them. In fact,” she said

suddenly, “I was about to go back for tea and jam tart. Would you care to join me?”

14. I had been warned against going off with strangers, but

somehow I sensed the old woman was harmless. “Sure,” I said.

15. “I’m Mrs. Robertson-Glasgow,” she introduced herself,

'.

;. extending her fine hand.

16. “Michael,” I said, taking it clumsily in my own.

17. We set off. And as we walked, she told me how she and her

husband had moved to Berkshire after he’d retired as a college professor about ten years earlier. “He passed away last year,”

she said, looking suddenly wistful. “So now I’m alone, and I

have all this time to walk the fields.”

18. Soon I saw a small brick cottage that glowed pinkly in the

westering sun. Mrs. Robertson-Glasgow opened the door and invited me in. I gazed about in silent admiration at the

bookshelves, glass-fronted cases containing figures of ivory and carved stone, cabinets full of fossils, trays of pinned butterflies and, best of all, a dozen or so stuffed birds — including a

glass-eyed eagle owl.

19. “Wow!” was all I could say.

20. “Does your mother expect you home at a particular time?” she

asked as she ran the water for tea.

21. “No,” I lied. Then, glancing at the clock, I added, “Well,

maybe by five.” That gave me almost an hour, not nearly

enough time to ask about every single object in the room. But between mouthfuls of tea and jam tart I learned all sorts of

things from Mrs. Robertson-Glasgow.

22. The hour went by much too swiftly. Mrs. Robertson-Glasgow

had to practically push me out the door. But she sent me home with two large tomes, one full of beautiful illustrations of birds, and one of butterflies and other insects. I promised to return

them the next weekend if she didn’t mind my coming by. She smiled and said she’d look forward to that.

23. I had made the best friend in the world.

24. When I returned the books, she lent me more. Soon I began to

see her almost every weekend, and my well of knowledge about natural history began to brim over. At school, I earned the

'.

;. nickname “Prof” and some respect from my fellow students. Even the school bully brought me a dead bird he had found, or probably shot, to identify.

25. During the sum …… 此处隐藏：6282字，全部文档内容请下载后查看。喜欢就下载吧 ……