Bird Notes from Brandon, Vermont 



Carrie W. Ormsbee 



Mar. 24, 191 7. "Wouldn't have missed it for anything, of 

 course I wouldn't, this afternoon's walk!" I had been busy with 

 Spring sewing in the morning but when it was mentioned at dinner, 

 that bluebirds had been seen in Rutland day before yesterday and 

 yesterday in Pittsford only eight miles away, I made up my mind, 

 no matter how many other things might demand my time in the 

 afternoon, I must go bluebirding — and 3 :3o found me on my way. 



I turned off the road above the church to the left through the 

 entrance guarded in summer by a wicket gate — open now — and made 

 my way up the steep path to the ledge slowly, for I had to strike 

 my heel into the soft snow at every step and them wait for my 

 rubber to melt in a bit in order to gain a foothold. The snow had 

 melted off the rocks and moss and I soon stood still, delighting in 

 the warm, bright sunlight and in the promising "tsweet, tsweet" 

 coming from the bushes and thorn-apples below. This continued 

 and I soon began to see Sittings in and about and before long I had 

 caught sight of a pair of chickadees, that seemed intent upon 

 scanning the twigs and branches carefully and to be pecking at 

 them, cocking their heads now on this side now on that; and cer- 

 tainly they were saying: "Syr-up dee-dee! S3n"-up dee-dee!" 

 Surely they could not be trying to draw sap from those bushes! 

 At any rate I am quite sure now, that chickadees, as well as the rest 

 of us, must somehow be enjoying Vermont's new-syrup season. 

 Soon they emerged from the thicket and flew about among the 

 trees by the roadside and down to the ground beyond some fence 

 rails. Led on I soon wished I had wings too, for how was I to 

 cross the new brook that had appeared in the pasture? Well, it 

 was too wet to stay where I was, so over I went quite safely, from 

 mound to stone, from stone to mound. Then I was confronted by 

 a high wire fence with barbed wire strung on the further side. I 

 put my opera glasses through, took off my hat and put it over, then 

 tried to crawl under. Oh, but the ground was wet ! Discovering a 

 place by an elm tree where the barbed wire had not been strung I 

 climbed the high outer wire fence square by square and gained the 

 other side only to cross a narrow strip of pasture and then be 

 obliged to crawl through some immovable bars. 



I was out upon the main road and slowly climbing a hill when — 

 listen ! there were the very notes I had been longing to hear. Two 



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