SKYLARK. 93 



The open country is its home, densely wooded areas are 

 shunned, but so long as it is open it is happy on cultivated 

 land, the seaboard marsh or the heathery moor ; indeed it 

 haunts the hilltops except when driven thence by weather. 

 The greatest outburst of song is from February, when birds are 

 pairing, until the young are hatched, but it sings, except when 

 moulting, at any season. On a warm day in winter or during 

 hard frost if the sun is bright some Larks are sure to go up, 

 but as a rule the winter ascents are to a lower altitude than in 

 spring. The bird rises v;ith quivering wings, beginning the 

 song when a few feet up ; then its whole body vibrating with 

 energy, it mounts higher and higher, often drifting round in a 

 wide arc before it descends, still singing. When yet at a 

 height, the song ceases and the bird drops abruptly, recovering 

 itself a foot or so above the grass and skimming forward before 

 alighting. The compass of the song is small and some belittle 

 its beauty, but its vehemence and continuity are remarkable. 



" He drops the silver chain of sound, 

 Of many links without a break," 



says Meredith. Into the song the Skylark weaves snatches 

 gleaned from other birds ; on the moors I have heard the 

 Dunlin's pier7' repeated over and over again. Singing from 

 the ground, a rail, or wall is not uncommon, especially when 

 the birds are pairing, and rival males sing vigorously v/hen 

 fighting. In summer the Lark is up long before daylight and 

 it sings until dusk. 



In winter, when the bird is gregarious, moving about the 

 tields in straggling, seldom compact flocks, the usual note is a 

 liquid purring trill ; the flight is then strong and direct, a few 

 rapid wing-beats followed by a shoot forward when the bird 

 shuts its wings almost with a snap. It roosts on the ground, 

 and if a field is crossed where birds are roosting the purring 

 call-note as the invisible bird whirrs off in the darkness 



