178 Clear Skies and Cloudy. 



the conditions in general when I saw, still in- 

 tact, a massive globular nest of the marsh-wren. 

 It is too late for the birds themselves, for they 

 have no liking for Nature under the new order 

 of things, when frost is stage manager. 



You stand in such dreary places as a marshy 

 meadow, and wonder why you came. With only 

 dead vegetation about you, it is not strange ; 

 but such feelings vanish when one by one the 

 lurking life begins to grow restive, and your at- 

 tention is called, now this way, now that ; to the 

 pool in the marsh in front of you, to the tan- 

 gle of wilted rose-mallow or great, gray, wilted 

 leaves of the classic lotus at one side, or to the 

 leaden sky above that seems so low down you 

 are oppressed by its nearness. A marsh-owl 

 with a mouse in its talons may rise up as silently 

 as any ghost at midnight, and, alighting on 

 some projecting stake, proceed to devour it, 

 quite unconcerned by your presence. At least, 

 this may happen if you are equal to standing 

 as rigidly as a fence-post ; and this is not so 

 very difficult if your attention is drawn to any 

 occurrence that interests you. The day being 

 dark, it is possible that the barn-owl, living in 



