But the nut's hollow.
I think there are too many trees.

They seem to crowd round and stare at me, and I feel as if they nudged one another when I'm not looking.
I can _feel_ them standing there.

And they won't let me get on about the baby this morning.

Just their cussedness.

I felt they encouraged me like a harem of wonderful silent wives, yesterday.
It is half rainy too--the wood so damp and still and so secret, in the remote morning air.