THROUGH THE YEAR 57 



the perfect definition of things then seen against 

 the horizon and in the afterglow of the west. The 

 deep-hushed, glowing July twilight is like a plate 

 sensitive to the finest lines, to the delicate touch of 

 the etcher. Every skyline on this plate of the late 

 summer eve is touched out as on copper, and the 

 sounds are as sharply expressed as the sights. This 

 is putting it clumsily, but it is extremely hard to 

 say what one feels and knows so well about these 

 magic minutes of the ending day. 



The thrush note, beyond all other bird notes heard 

 in England, belongs to these minutes. Its definition 

 is sharper on the plate of sound then, than at any 

 other time of day and season. How the song- 

 thrush's phrases, those plain-spoken bird words, 

 rule in the deep calm ! I should think that ears the 

 least attentive to bird song and the lesser voices of 

 Nature must be struck by the ring of these twilight 

 notes. Birds' songs in England may together make 

 a clock, like the blossoms of plants in the garden 

 and the wild scarlet pimpernel, evening primrose, 

 the speedwells. On this clock the latest singing 

 thrush signifies in the South of England five minutes 

 past nine if the eve is serene and clear. I have 

 noticed this often in different places. But on June 

 24 one season I did hear thrush notes ring out 

 strong and clear at ten past nine. They came from 

 the thick grove of beech trees that line the railway 

 for several hundred yards near Micheldever Station, 

 on the downs. Perhaps the trains kept this 

 bird awake beyond the right time for thrushes. 



