noon
And then there was a long , long silence . In the Corn Summer had come . The soft days of spring had gone by , the days when the feeling of growth impresses every sense . The haze-filled April mornings , warming into the forcing ardor of noon , had stirred into life the activity latent in root and twig . May 's glowing sun , shining through the scantily covered branches , made dancing motes of heat wave above the surface of red clay . The aspens fluttered into exquisite greenness . The sourwood put forth the satin of its tender leaves .