58 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



safras is as green as a June meadow, and how 

 stately the rich foliage of the rhododendrons ! 

 but here the slender silvery birches are bare in- 

 tricacies of delicate twigs, a pretty lace-work as 

 seen against the sky, and even prettier now that 

 a host of waxwings has settled among them. 

 They lisp in a languid way and never cease to 

 dress rebellious feathers, but they do not rouse 

 our interest beyond their prettiness. They lack 

 the animation of a wren and music of a thrush, 

 and one wonders what their place in Nature 

 really is. This is not an unusual time for them, 

 but their coming and going is very uncertain. 

 Not always, however, for I have known a flock 

 of half a hundred or more to linger about the 

 same cedars for weeks together. 



Of greater interest than any strictly land bird 

 are the gulls that the storm has driven up the 

 river, veritable storm-tossed creatures that hap- 

 pily do not complain, but enter into the new 

 conditions with abundant zest They give a 

 seaside twang to the air and water, and I fancy 

 the wind in the trees the roar of the surf. 

 Other sea-birds occasionally come, and a good 

 many too, at times, were here, long ago, judging 



