170



A Morning in Winter.



sparrows, whilst out in an orchard one poor redpoll is searching for

seeds on the stalks of last year which emerge from the snow level.

Then, broom in hand, I sweep a space first in one meadow and then

in another for the cranes to feed on. Maize and bread, and I have

to stand by a bit to keep off rooks and jackdaws, which directly

my back is turned, flop down and quickly devour what they can

find. Then I’m off to the aviaries, again to sweep on the lawn

surrounding them, because there the palm doves come to feed and

a few crested doves, as well as my Modena pigeons.


I'm anxious about the doves, so so few put in an appearance,

and they can’t find food anywhere else. For three days now I have

seen not more than half a dozen, instead of five or seven and twenty.

I whistle and scatter grain, and an hour after, the swept ground is

snow-covered. Luckily it isn’t freezing hard, and the birds can find

plenty of water to drink, and the flamingoes and ducks on ponds

and moat are none the worse, especially as they receive an extra

meal. But how unnatural the flamingoes look, like a bevy of girls

in pink evening frocks, who have had to walk home from a party,

holding their skirts very high indeed : they look cold, but are really

all right, and when the grain is thrown into the shallow water, all

come forward ; gaggling, grunting, squabbling, and duelling, with long

writhing necks and erected dorsal plumes : and whilst they thus

waste precious time, ducks are taking advantage, dibbling, devour¬

ing and diving, (I doubt if such alliteration is good ! ) There is a

most magnificent male falcated duck amongst them, with a head

and crest of burnished violet and coppery-brown, his elongated

feathers on the back almost covering the tail. A very handsome

species. But it isn’t a morning for standing still to admire man¬

darins and summer ducks, Bahamas and shelduck, pochard, golden

eyes and the rest, even if one had the time. There is the poultry

to be seen to, and poor February chicks to cosset, and one’s own

breakfast to think of. The aviary birds seem all right, for they

have slept in warmed shelters, with food awaiting them on awaking.

The red cardinals make a flash of colour against the snowy back¬

ground, but almost too much so in these times ; involuntarily one

thinks of blood upon the snow ! and one thinks of it still more

when one returns indoors to find the daily paper on the table !!



