VII 



A SEPTEMBER DAY 



THE very early morning and the half -hour or so of 

 sundown on September days are distinctive and 

 most beautiful. There is a spell about the Septem- 

 ber daybreak a spell entirely different from that 

 of the high midsummer or of the marvellous fresh 

 break of a riotous May morning. 



When light conies through the window in these 

 first autumn mornings, it brings no suggestion of a 

 world created anew : that is peculiar to May and 

 June, to the immense strength and surge of the year. 

 Yet it is well to wake at the waking of a September 

 day. In place of the riot and splendid rush and 

 energy of the great making months is perfect 

 serenity. In woody spots the voice of these Sep- 

 tember mornings is ring doves. They begin as 

 early as any bird. Sometimes the tawny owl's 

 grand, rollicking call will go on through the greater 

 part of the night, so that the ring doves appear to 

 succeed the owls with scarcely a pause between the 

 two. The wren follows fast the ring dove. The 

 wren, indeed, is in something like full song again. 

 He paused in July if he paused at all but now 

 again wrens are lively as ever. Wherever we go 

 in the south of England we meet with these very 



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