The forests and the fields were flush with the green of early spring.

Little wild flowers were peeping up in the thickets, and now and then a bird, full throated, sang on a bough, indifferent to passing armies.
But Harry saw a red tint over everything.

The spirit of his great ancestor had descended upon him again.

The acute sense which warned him of mighty and tragic events soon to come was alive and active.

His mind traveled backward too.