A BIRDLOVER'S YEAR 



Dismissing the motor pro tern, we saunter 

 idly to the shores of the loch, our path 

 leading through the fragrant bog myrtle. 

 A flock of lapwing rise at our approach 

 and we notice at once their curious flapping 

 flight. The green plover, though always to 

 be seen in this district, vary in numbers, 

 which proves that to a certain extent this 

 bird is a migrant. Now the little flock 

 composed of some twenty birds flap away 

 from us, and through the binoculars we see 

 them alighting on a projecting knoll of 

 moorland some two hundred yards away. 



The heather is barely in bloom yet, though 

 here and there are patches of bright mauve 

 bell heather in full bloom. Suddenly at 

 our feet a little party of golden plover 

 arise and fly quickly towards the hill. 

 These charming birds pass the spring and 

 summer on the moorlands, descending in 

 autumn to the plains and lowlands. During 

 their autumn flights the golden plover travel 

 in large flocks, keeping in close array and 

 sweeping upwards or downwards, twisting 

 to right or left with all the precision of a well- 

 drilled regiment of soldiers. Their flight is 

 rapid and their wing-beats short. During 

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