44 Bird- Lore 



a few Red -winged Blackbirds and Aleadowlarks come in at sunset to spend 

 the night; Tree Sparrows frequent the alder thickets; and the extensive 

 beds of cat -tail flags, bent down and matted together by the snow, afford 

 shelter for numerous Song and Swamp Sparrows as well as for one or two 

 Long -billed Marsh Wrens. On mild, calm mornings the Sparrows may be 

 heard chirping to one another from the different covers and late in February 

 the Song Sparrows sing a little in subdued, broken tones, but during most 

 of the period when winter holds full sway the marshes are as silent as they 

 are desolate. 



The awakening comes in March when the deeper pools and channels 

 begin to show open water and the snow and ice everywhere are rapidly 

 wasting under the ever increasing strength of the sun's rays. The Song 

 Sparrows, Tree Sparrows, Red -winged Blackbirds and Rusty Blackbirds 

 that have passed the winter further south arrive in force at this time, and 

 at morning and evening, before the blustering northwest wind has risen and 

 after it has lulled for the night, they fill the marsh with their voices. The 

 Red-wings are scattered about, perched conspicuously on the topm.ost twigs 

 of isolated shrubs or low trees, their sable forms sharply outlined against the 

 light background of water, snow or sky, each bird flashing his scarlet 

 epaulets in the sunlight for an instant, just as he swells his plumage and half 

 opens his wings to utter his rich, guttural o-ka-lee. The Rustics pass and 

 repass over the open in loose flocks, with undulating flight, or alight in the 

 upper branches of the trees to indulge in one of their rather infrequent out- 

 bursts of tinkling medley-singing before descending to feed on the margin 

 of some shallow pool fringed with button bushes or overhung by willows. 

 The Song Sparrows, although less noticeable than the Blackbirds, by rea- 

 son of their soberer garb and more retiring habits, are also constantly in sight, 

 flitting from bush to bush or perching on some exposed twig to chant their 

 sweet, earnest songs; but the wild, ringing, rapidly delivered notes of the 

 Tree Sparrows issue, as a rule, from the depths of the thickets where the 

 birds keep closely concealed. These voices, with, perhaps, the tender, plain- 

 tive warble of some passing Bluebird or at evening, towards the close of the 

 month, the merry peeping of Pickering's hylas are the characteristic March 

 sounds of the Fresh Pond marshes as well as of many similar places in 

 eastern Massachusetts. How they soothe and refresh the senses after the 

 long silence of winter, breathing to every one of refined sensibilities the very 

 essence of early spring! To those who have long known and loved them 

 they are inexpressibly grateful and precious, touching the chords of memory 

 more subtly than do any other sounds, recalling past associations — albeit 

 often saddened ones, and filling the heart with renewed courage and hope 

 for the future. 



After the 6th or 7th of April the temperature rarely falls below the 

 freezing point and by the lOth or 12th of the month the marshes are usually 



