190 BIRDS AND MAN 



simply ugly. On your left hand you look over 

 long miles, long leagues, of low flat country, ex- 

 tending to the Parret River, and beyond it to the 

 blue Quantock range. That low land is on a level 

 with the sea, and is the flattest bit of country in 

 England, not even excepting the Ely district. 

 Apart from the charm which flatness has in itself 

 for some persons — it has for me a very great charm 

 on account of early associations — there is much 

 here to attract the lover of nature. It is the chief 

 haunt and paradise of the reed warbler, one of our 

 sweetest songsters, and here his music may be heard 

 amid more perfect surroundings than in any other 

 haunt of the bird known to me in England. 



This low level strip of country is mostly pasture- 

 land, and is drained by endless ditches, full of reeds 

 and sedges growing in the stagnant sherry- coloured 

 water ; dwarf hawthorn grows on the banks of the 

 ditches, and is the only tree vegetation. Standing 

 on one of the wide flat green fields or spaces, at a 

 distance from the sandy dyke or ditch, it is strangely 

 silent. Unless a lark is singing near, there is no 

 sound at all ; but it is wonderfully bright and 

 fragrant where the green level earth is yellowed 

 over with cowslips, and you get the deliciousness 

 of that flower in fullest measure. On coming to 



