40 THE RING OF NATURE 



and other fixtures. Perhaps, too, the English 

 climate was always too fickle to bear the trans- 

 planting of these spring festivals from the more 

 settled climates in which sun-worship originated. 

 But we nature-lovers, or I to speak for one of them, 

 cling to these fixed sun-marks with a faith that is 

 unshaken by many disappointments. If it is not 

 the actual day on which birds mate, as country 

 tradition will have it to be, there is, even in the 

 worst of years, a good deal of avine courting to be 

 seen on this day. 



In Hyde Park there are hundreds of wood- 

 pigeons, or, as we must say to-day, scores of pairs. 

 They are busy in the tops of the elms, perhaps 

 getting sticks for their nests, but more likely just 

 toying with those early emblems of love and 

 summer, the buds swelling and bursting into rosy 

 blossoms. We earthlings had no idea that flower- 

 time was so near up there, till the wanton doves 

 threw down on us little sprays of pink elm-roses. 

 One pair of wood-pigeons is just sitting on a dead 

 branch in the full bathe of the sun. The birds 

 do not even trouble to look at one another ; each 

 knows that the other is by, and that is enough. 

 The sun striking them full in the breast brings up 

 out of the grey, a purple iridescence on the neck, 

 a bluish-pink on the bosom, and a warmth of the 

 dove-like tones as though they were translucent 

 to a light within. Perhaps they are. 



Not even the doves can enjoy love without battle. 

 You see them lift a pinion and flap a rival appar- 



