A Glimpse of the Birds of Berkeley, 



to the rolling slopes of the Berkeley 

 Hills (mountains, our eastern friends 

 call them ) ; of the cold, clear streams 

 of water which have cut their way from 

 the hill crests down into the plain, form- 

 ing lovely canons with great old live- 

 oaks in their lower and more open por- 

 tions, and sweet-scented laurel or bay 

 trees crowded into their narrower and 

 more precipitous parts; of the great 

 expanse of open hill slopes, green and 

 tender during the months of winter 

 rain, and soft brown and purple when 

 the summer sun has parched the grass 

 and flowers. These, with cultivated 

 gardens and fields of grain, make the 

 environment of our birds, and here they 

 live their busy lives. 



There comes a morning during the 

 month of September when a peculiarly 

 clear, crisp quality of the air first sug- 

 gests the presence of autumn. It is 

 something intangible, inexpressible, but 

 to me vital and significant of change. 

 In my morning walk I notice the first 

 io8 



