For soon I came to a more open part, and
by-and-by crossed a wide grassy glade, on which were several circles of
brighter green. But even here I was struck with the utter stillness. No
bird sang. No insect hummed. Not a living creature crossed my way. Yet
somehow the whole environment seemed only asleep, and to wear even in
sleep an air of expectation. The trees seemed all to have an expression
of conscious mystery, as if they said to themselves, "we could, an' if
we would."

They had all a meaning look about them. Then I remembered
that night is the fairies' day, and the moon their sun; and I
thought--Everything sleeps and dreams now: when the night comes, it will
be different. At the same time I, being a man and a child of the day,
felt some anxiety as to how I should fare among the elves and other
children of the night who wake when mortals dream, and find their common
life in those wondrous hours that flow noiselessly over the moveless
death-like forms of men and women and children, lying strewn and parted
beneath the weight of the heavy waves of night, which flow on and beat
them down, and hold them drowned and senseless, until the ebbtide comes,
and the waves sink away, back into the ocean of the dark. But I took
courage and went on. Soon, however, I became again anxious, though from
another cause. I had eaten nothing that day, and for an hour past had
been feeling the want of food. So I grew afraid lest I should find
nothing to meet my human necessities in this strange place; but once
more I comforted myself with hope and went on.