Bird Life in July. 165 



The Nightingale's voice is heard no more after 

 mid-June ; and from this time onwards the woods 

 begin to grow silent, especially after early morning. 

 For a while the Blackcap breaks the stillness, and 

 his soft sweet warble is in perfect keeping with 

 the quiet solitude. But as the heat increases, the 

 birds begin to feel, as man does, that the shade of 

 a thick wood is more oppressive than the bright 

 sunshine of the meadows ; and on a hot afternoon 

 in July you may walk through the woodland and 

 hardly catch a single note. 



But on the outskirts of a wood, or in a grassy 

 'ride,' you may meet with life again. The Tit- 

 mice will come crooning around you, appearing 

 suddenly, and vanishing you hardly know T how or 

 whither ; Wood-pigeons will dash out of the trees 

 with that curious impetuosity of theirs, as if they 

 were suddenly sent for on most pressing business. 

 A Robin will perch on a branch hard by, and startle 

 you with that pathetic soliloquy which calls up 

 instantly to your memory the damp mist and de- 

 caying leaves of last November. The Green 

 Woodpecker may be there, laughing at you from 

 an elm, or possibly (as I have sometimes seen him) 



