10 LLANDDWYN 



dark, grave eye. A Starling, having fed her young, 

 hung at the nest-hole on a tree-trunk, screamed at 

 and screaming. And everywhere were Blackbirds 

 and Thrushes without end. 



If I mention all these common sights it is because 

 in this journey of something over a score of miles, 

 one passes from the most heavily wooded portion of 

 the island through gradual degradation in vegetative 

 growth until in the end a spot is reached where is 

 neither tree nor shrub, but only low dwarfed forms 

 that clutch the shifting sand and fight for life. And 

 as the scene changes the birds change with it, old 

 species falling out and new ones appearing, yet with 

 overlapping of areas in some species, whilst others, 

 present in the woodlands, face all changes, and are 

 present still when at last bare rock and barren warren 

 give place to the sea. 



Before entering Menai the road curves sharply 

 towards the left, exposing, after turning, the waters 

 of the Straits. But here, at hand, is a mud-bottomed 

 backwater lying off the main channel ; and beyond a 

 fish weir, two rocky islands completely covered by 

 tall trees stand in by the wooded shore. The nearer 

 of these is the Menai Heronry. 



Here were born the Herons that frequent the 

 shallows alongshore as far as the fish weirs some six 

 miles further up the Straits. There, standing ankle- 

 deep (a Heron's ankles are relatively about as far 

 from his toes as are a man's knees), with neck craned 

 stiffly out and the large bill as rigidly set, he is less 

 interesting for what he does than for the length of 

 time during which he will continue to do nothing. 

 At the weirs, however, he needs at times display 



