ON THE MARSHES 



ON THE MARSHES 



THE burden of the chaffinch's song has been neatly 

 rendered in words by the phrase, " In 

 In another month will come the wheat-earl " 



Another and his message rings true to-day. For the 

 Month wheatear must be on his way, being one of 

 the earliest migrants. His coming will be 

 first noticed perhaps by the South Down shepherds, 

 whom these handsome little birds keep company 

 through the summer, great lovers as they are of hills 

 by the sea. They are well known, too, about the pebbly 

 beaches of Romney Marsh, where they will nest on the 

 beach, or in any old can or kettle they can find for 

 cover; it has been observed that nests among pebbles 

 have no lining of feathers which might give away the 

 secret. Like the swallows, the wheatears return year by 

 year to the same nesting-sites, their true homes. 



THE Romney Marshes have been very fittingly called 

 " The Land of Larks," and the larks now 

 Land of are singing their nuptial hymns with ever- 

 Larks freshening fervour over that green and 



watery country. (But lovers of Sussex 

 Downs cling to a faith that no lowland lark can equal 

 the rain-like music of the downland birds, singing in 

 their refined sea and mountain air.) The marshes 

 respond early to the call of Spring, though vast flocks 

 of gulls and rooks still make typical winter studies in 

 black and white on the green ground. The lark in love 

 cuts a gallant figure, as he hops about his mate, raises 

 his crest, and flirts an expressive wing. 



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