118 AUTUMN NOTES IN IOWA 



ly level view across the prairies to towns seven, 

 ten or more miles away. In Dakota, mirage some- 

 times gives one a temporary vision of towns twen- 

 ty miles or more away, over the unfeneed, nn- 

 ploughed lands. 



In the fields today the red fruit of the wild roses 

 made a pleasant contrast to the autumnal browns. 

 It would require an artist to distinguish all the 

 shades of brown now prominent in the landscape 

 — lighter browns, almost yellow, of cornstalks, 

 straw stacks and stubble ; darker browns of woods, 

 hedges, and many weed masses. A wind-tumbled 

 patch of tall, thick meadow grass mingling brown 

 with green, resembled waters in sunshine and 

 breeze. From the cornfields came the sound of 

 stalks crunched by the teams and feeding cattle, 

 and the thump of ears against the boarded side of 

 the wagons. The dry stalks stand conspicuously 

 above the heads of men and horses — these being 

 relieved as dark objects in a golden light. The in- 

 sect voices are mainly silent, notwithstanding the 

 warm Aveather, but a few crickets were chirping 

 faintly, and some grasshoppers were lively. A sol- 

 itary hawk was sweeping in low, wide circles over 

 the fields — perhaps a marsh harrier, perhaps a 

 red-tailed hawk. The only other birds noticed 

 were crows, chickadees, and several flocks of tree 

 sparrows. 



The tree sparrow, or ''winter chippy," is a neat, 



