BIRDS OF PASSAGE i8i 



winter. They are not at all disturbed by the cold, 

 and their thin notes are often the only indications of 

 life in the close Cedars and among the tall, naked 

 branches of the Elms and Maples. The first arrivals 

 will probably move farther south, but there are 

 plenty in the northern woods to continue their 

 whispered conversation in the changing foliage. A 

 few Robins still linger about, but they have assumed 

 the serious air of the advancing season. Should one 

 be tempted by the unusual warmth to indulge in the 

 liquid song of spring there is no response, and he 

 soon desists, as if ashamed of his innocent mistake. 

 The harsh voice of the Jay is made more conspicuous 

 in the silence that seems to settle down with the 

 falling leaves. The Crow, too, is calling. Both these 

 hardy and noisy marauders will be content to remain 

 throughout the winter. The blue sky, where recently 

 the Swifts and Swallows darted after insect prey, 

 seems to feel their absence. Solitary Herring Gulls 

 pass from the inland waters to the increasing flocks 

 on the lake, and toward the horizon a steady moving 

 train of dots on the sky shows that the ducks are 

 assembling for the long migration. The silent 

 eagerness of passing flocks contrasts with the loud 

 awakening songs of the yearns mormng, but the season 

 of silent desertion is a bridge from spring to spring, 

 and an earnest of the renewal of nature *s perpetual 

 youth. 



