190 MY LIFE AS A NATURALIST 



steps, the crevices of the latter being festooned with various 

 dwarf plants which blossom from early Spring to Autumn. The 

 Wagtail is followed later by a gaudy male Chaffinch, his ruddy 

 breast all aglow with a feast of colour. 



One of the characteristic plant associations of Homewood's 

 undergrowth is the Bramble, hence the number of shy Warblers, 

 Chiff-Chaffs, Willow Wrens, Blackcaps, and Whitethroats which 

 haunt this Hertfordshire homestead. Its cousin, the Dewberry, 

 is already in flower, but the Bramble's " blossomy diadem," as 

 Owen Meredith would say, is not just yet. When the fragile 

 blossoms do unroll, crumpled in bud, open wide in after time, the 

 Ringlet Butterfly will be a constant visitor. Later still, when 

 the rich clusters of blackberries appear, the hungry Greenfinch, 

 Thrush, Starling, and other fruit-loving birds, will take toll from 

 the luscious berries. And so will man ! 



Let us saunter into the wood, where, under the shade of the 

 trees, we shall find it cool and refreshing this June morning, for 

 the sun is getting higher in the Heavens, and the comparative 

 quietness of the birds betokens the coming heat of noonday. 

 Do I not remember my visit to this pleasant little wood one 

 wintry day last January ? The whole woodland was then 

 enveloped in snow and frost. At midday a rapid thaw set in, 

 and, as I trudged through the slush at nightfall, I was still full of 

 hope for better and brighter days. Now that happy consumma- 

 tion has come to pass. What magic has happened in the mean- 

 time, in spite of wars that rage, and governments that fall ! 



I have with me for quiet meditation and inspiration this day 

 in June a copy of the Selected Poems of Robert, first Earl of 

 Lytton (Owen Meredith), and, as I turn casually over the leaves 

 of this fragrant volume, fresh from the hands of the poet's loving 

 consort, my hostess to-day, my eye alights on never-to-be-for- 

 gotten word pictures, which I recite aloud to myself as 

 emblematical of the Spring that has just passed : 



" The Violets meet, and disport themselves, 



Under the trees, by tens and twelves. 

 The timorous Cowslips, one by one, 



Trembling, chilly, atiptoe stand 

 On little hillocks and knolls alone ; 



Watchful pickets, that wave a hand 

 For signal sure that the snow is gone, 



Then around them call their comrades all 

 In a multitudinous, mirthful band ; 



