ANODYNE OF DAWN 



day ! The birds are scarcely awake, or for some 

 reason they do not sing this morning. Nothing 

 breaks the brooding quiet of an unpeopled world. 

 We cannot see the May earth in its full value from 

 a window, and there is some conspiracy of civiliza- 

 tion to prevent us steeping ourselves in the real 

 thing in the open air. It is formidable to creep 

 down like a housebreaker, every stair creaking 

 loudly, to unbolt obstinate doors. But even the 

 meagre glimpse we get of the steel grey of the 

 May morning through the window is anodyne. 

 It is the utter stillness on the sombre face of Nature 

 that appeals to us in these undarkening minutes of 

 the day. 



There succeeds an entirely different scene. The 

 hubbub of the birds fairly begins. The world 

 awakes, and is thickly inhabited once more. But 

 it is the feeling of freshness that is now so strong. 

 Each May morning the earth is created. The 

 stock of freshness and elate youth from which 

 Nature draws without stint in this last fortnight of 

 May and the first fortnight of June is inexhaustible. 



A Willow Wren's Nest 



To find birds' nests in wild, thick places, it is 

 better to watch the builders than search the bushes 

 and undergrowth. There is something unmistak- 

 able in the behaviour of small birds when nests are 

 a-building. You may at other times see a bird fly 



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