The day has passed delightfully. I have been wandering by myself in a Brazilian forest: amongst the multitude it is hard to
say what set of objects is most striking; the general luxuriance of the
vegetation bears the victory, the elegance of the grasses, the novelty
of the parasitical plants, the beauty of the flowers. -- the glossy
green of the foliage, all tend to this end.
A most paradoxical
mixture of sound & silence pervades the shady parts of the wood, the noise from the insects is so loud that in the evening it can be
heard even in a vessel anchored several hundred yards from the shore. Yet within the recesses of the forest when in the midst of it a
universal stillness appears to reign. To a person fond of natural
history such a day as this brings with it pleasure more acute than he
ever may again experience.
After wandering about for some hours, I returned to the landing place. Before reaching it I was overtaken by a Tropical storm. I tried to find shelter under a tree so thick that it would never have been penetrated by common English rain, yet here in a couple of minutes, a little torrent flowed down the trunk. It is to this violence we must attribute the verdure in the bottom of the wood, if the showers were like those of a colder clime, the moisture would be absorbed or evaporated before reaching the ground.