148 NATURE NEAR LONDON. 



night, as many as twelve and seventeen are still to be 

 counted together. They have more cover than usual 

 at this season, not only because the harvest is still 

 about, but because where cut the stubble is so full of 

 weeds that when crouching they are hidden. In some 

 fields the weeds are so thick that even a pheasant 

 can hide. 



South of London the harvest commenced in the 

 last week of July. The stubble that was first cut 

 still remains unploughed ; it is difficult to find a fresh 

 furrow, and I have only once or twice heard the quick 

 strong puffing of the steam-plough. While the wheat 

 was in shock it was a sight to see the wood-pigeons 

 at it. Flocks of hundreds came perching on the 

 sheaves, and visiting the same field day after day. 

 The sparrows have never had such a feast of grain 

 as this year. Whole corners of wheat fields they 

 work more at corners were cleared out as clean by 

 them as if the wheat had been threshed as it stood. 



The sunshine of the autumn afternoons is faintly 

 tawny, and the long grass by the wayside takes from 

 it a tawny undertone. Some other colour than the 

 green of each separate blade, if gathered, lies among 

 the bunches, a little, perhaps like the hue of the 

 narrow pointed leaves of the reeds. It is caught only 

 for a moment, and looked at steadily it goes. Among 

 the grass, the hawkweeds, one or two dandelions, and 

 a stray buttercup, all yellow, favour the illusion. By 

 the bushes there is a double row of pale buff bryony 

 leaves; these, too, help to increase the sense of a 

 secondary colour. 



The atmosphere holds the beams, and abstracts 



