138 NATURE NEAR LONDON 



there could not have been less than a thousand. Still 

 more and more arrived, and by the first of January 

 (1882) even this number was doubled, and there were 

 certainly fully two thousand there. It is the habit of 

 green plovers to all move at once, to rise from the 

 ground simultaneously, to turn in the air, or to descend 

 and all so regular that their very wings seem to flap 

 together. The effect of such a vast body of white- 

 breasted birds uprising as one from the dark ploughed 

 earth was very remarkable. 



When they passed overhead the air sang like the 

 midsummer hum with the shrill noise of beating wings. 

 When they wheeled a light shot down reflected from 

 their white breasts, so that people involuntarily looked 

 up to see what it could be. The sun shone on them, 

 so that at a distance the flock resembled a cloud 

 brilliantly illuminated. In an instant they turned and 

 the cloud was darkened. Such a great flock had not 

 been seen in that district in the memory of man. 



There did not seem any reason for their congregating 

 in this manner, unless it was the mildness of the winter, 

 but winters had been mild before without such a display. 

 The birds as a mass rarely left this one particular field 

 they voyaged round in the air and settled again in the 

 same place. Some few used to spend hours with the 

 sheep in a meadow, remaining there till dusk, till the 

 mist hid them, and their cry sounded afar in the gloom. 

 They stayed all through the winter, breaking up as 

 the spring approached. By March the great flock 

 had dispersed. 



The winter was very mild. There were buttercups, 

 avens, and white nettles in flower on December 3ist. 

 On January yth, there were briar buds opening into 

 young leaf; on the Qth a dandelion in flower, and an 



