The Redwing 



CHAPTER IX 



A Tired Traveller 



(Turdiis iliacus) 



It was fine weather on the morning of the first day of 

 November on the east coast. Coming out, I looked 

 for grey clouds travelling before a biting wind, a grey 

 clammy mist brooding on the flat desolate land, and 

 found, instead, a clear day without a vapour, the sun 

 shining very brightly, the air almost still and deliciously 

 warm. It was, for November, the most perfect day I 

 could have had for a ramble on the grey flat saltings 

 between Wells-next-the-Sea and Stiffkey: they are not 

 as in summer at this time of the year, but have the 

 compensating charm of solitariness. I had them all to 

 myself on that morning; there was no sound of human 



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