... thrust through with shafts of white moonbeams, giving a weird setting to the silent midnight hour. The odor of woods' blossoms came with the moist, fresh breath of the May night. There was a little song of waters gurgling down the spillway that was once only a dry draw choked with wild plum bushes. The road wound picturesquely through the grove to a bridged driveway that separated the lakelet into two parts. A spread of silvery light lay on this driveway and Thaine checked ... — Winning the Wilderness • Margaret Hill McCarter
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