46 MATESHIP WITH BIRDS 



realisation came of the sure steadiness of the on- 

 ward march of the Southern Spring. September 

 having been lost, it verily seemed that the spirit 

 of the sweet season had lifted the bush-world 

 straight from August to October. The migratory 

 and nomadic birds had returned to swell the new- 

 old chorus, the gold of the wattle had been trans- 

 ferred to the everlastings of the hills, the "billy- 

 buttons" of the roadside, and the carpeting Cape- 

 weed of the paddocks ; the dainty blue "pincushions" 

 created a pretty border to the bush railroads, and 

 every bush-orchard held a riot of lush grass and 

 fragrant apple-blossom. It is no exaggeration to 

 say that the luxury of it all melody, visible beauty, 

 and fragrance was literally bewildering in the 

 suddenness of its salutation; and, though one may 

 not affirm that the loveliness increases with the 

 passage of the years, it is certainly true that the 

 vital experience is a poignant memory can still 

 distinctly be felt. 



As the blossom of the almond-tree is to August, 

 so are the fragrant flowers of pear and apple to 

 October; indeed, they are as much a part of this 

 lavish month as are the dainty Diuris orchids and 

 other modest wildflowers. Your bush-orchard, par- 

 ticularily if it be not too precisely trimmed, is 

 always a pleasant spot; and just now it is a source 

 of sheer delight, something to exult in. 



I recall with what pent-up exuberance a some- 

 what dishevelled old orchard was greeted by a class 

 of junior school teachers whom I led abroad on a 

 day in October of 1914. Our Lady of the Spring 

 seemed to have got all her arrangements awry in 



