{"id":"01KG6YH8FM5D9BYXAQYPZHDAD6","cid":"bafkreih6o77mx4m7g6ilwrofbvgwyukl6zff67ziq3do7gekiyfnbma7z4","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":340,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:55.409Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 6","source_file":"01KG6YDDF6PTWG4P7JTS5THSTD","start_line":293,"text":"but for golden flights of yellow-birds—pilots, surely, to the golden\r\nwindow, to one side flying before me, from bush to bush, towards deep\r\nwoods—which woods themselves were luring—and, somehow, lured, too, by\r\ntheir fence, banning a dark road, which, however dark, led up. I pushed\r\nthrough; when Aries, renouncing me now for some lost soul, wheeled, and\r\nwent his wiser way. Forbidding and forbidden ground—to him.\r\n\r\nA winter wood road, matted all along with winter-green. By the side of\r\npebbly waters—waters the cheerier for their solitude; beneath swaying\r\nfir-boughs, petted by no season, but still green in all, on I\r\njourneyed—my horse and I; on, by an old saw-mill, bound down and hushed\r\nwith vines, that his grating voice no more was heard; on, by a deep\r\nflume clove through snowy marble, vernal-tinted, where freshet eddies\r\nhad, on each side, spun out empty chapels in the living rock; on, where\r\nJacks-in-the-pulpit, like their Baptist namesake, preached but to the\r\nwilderness; on, where a huge, cross-grain block, fern-bedded, showed\r\nwhere, in forgotten times, man after man had tried to split it, but\r\nlost his wedges for his pains—which wedges yet rusted in their holes;\r\non, where, ages past, in step-like ledges of a cascade, skull-hollow\r\npots had been churned out by ceaseless whirling of a flintstone—ever\r\nwearing, but itself unworn; on, by wild rapids pouring into a secret\r\npool, but soothed by circling there awhile, issued forth serenely; on,\r\nto less broken ground, and by a little ring, where, truly, fairies must\r\nhave danced, or else some wheel-tire been heated—for all was bare;\r\nstill on, and up, and out into a hanging orchard, where maidenly looked\r\ndown upon me a crescent moon, from morning.\r\n\r\nMy horse hitched low his head. Red apples rolled before him; Eve’s\r\napples; seek-no-furthers. He tasted one, I another; it tasted of the\r\nground. Fairy land not yet, thought I, flinging my bridle to a humped\r\nold tree, that crooked out an arm to catch it. For the way now lay\r\nwhere path was none, and none might go but by himself, and only go by\r\ndaring. Through blackberry brakes that tried to pluck me back, though I\r\nbut strained towards fruitless growths of mountain-laurel; up slippery\r\nsteeps to barren heights, where stood none to welcome. Fairy land not\r\nyet, thought I, though the morning is here before me.\r\n\r\nFoot-sore enough and weary, I gained not then my journey’s end, but\r\ncame ere long to a craggy pass, dipping towards growing regions still\r\nbeyond. A zigzag road, half overgrown with blueberry bushes, here\r\nturned among the cliffs. A rent was in their ragged sides; through it a\r\nlittle track branched off, which, upwards threading that short defile,\r\ncame breezily out above, to where the mountain-top, part sheltered\r\nnorthward, by a taller brother, sloped gently off a space, ere darkly\r\nplunging; and here, among fantastic rocks, reposing in a herd, the\r\nfoot-track wound, half beaten, up to a little, low-storied, grayish\r\ncottage, capped, nun-like, with a peaked roof.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 6"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6YGB7ZRMGN7B1MPH0Y1BQ2","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6YDDF6PTWG4P7JTS5THSTD","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG6YCG626JN4FCG8QK17CQCF","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6YH8FM13TVY6V81T409AAY","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6YH8FMFKFTM4SXGVAYREV2","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T07:57:55.572Z","ts":"2026-01-30T07:58:02.234Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}