March in the Pine Woods, 



one .accord, they leave their perches, 

 wheel back and forth through the air a 

 number of times, and finally settle amid 

 a patch of tules in an old pond. Sud- 

 denly all is silence. The pine tree 

 grows blacker and blacker in silhouette 

 against the saffron sky, the timid deer 

 comes out in the open from the somber 

 fringe of the forest, an owl hoots in the 

 solitude, and before we are aware of it 

 night is upon us. 



