CHAPTEE III 



AMONG THE BIRDS IN WALES 



IN the flat meadows of the midlands, with their deep 

 alluvial soil, there is a certain lush richness of 

 vegetation in June which makes the air heavy and 

 languid. Unless the weather chances to be un- 

 usually dry and bright, as it was in the June of 

 last year, you cannot push through even a few yards 

 of that dense herbage without feeling the moisture 

 that lurks in the depths of it; the same moisture 

 that becomes visible, when the sun goes down, in a 

 white film of vapour which rises ghost-like in the 

 dusk, and covers the meadow like a sheet, ending 

 exactly where the hedge divides the upward-sloping 

 pasture -field from the growing hay of the flat 

 ground. 



It is at this time, before the hay is cut and the 

 damp of the grass-roots is exposed and dried, at the 

 very time when the flowers are most brilliant, and 

 the gently-flowing water of our streams lingers lazily 

 about the yellow flags and blue geraniums that 



