THROUGH THE YEAR 141 



"Her secret toil from day to day 

 How true she warped the moss to form a nest, 

 And modelled it within with wood and clay, 

 And by and by, like heathbells gilt with dew, 

 There lay her shining eggs as bright as flowers." 



The first thrush nest in March and the first thrush 

 note in September or October have a fresh and 



exquisite pleasure for me. 



****** 



Then comes the fluting of the first blackbirds, and, 

 a little later, the ripple of the chaffinch ; and, after 

 that, the surprising eve in April wet and cold 

 perhaps, but full of the sense of spring life when 

 suddenly a babel of song breaks out, flooding 

 the air thrushes, great tits, blackbirds, redbreasts, 

 ring doves, chaffinches, and wrens, all mixed up and 

 spoiling the effect of one another's music. 



The first willow wren's song and the first chiff- 

 chaff's notes a week later are scarcely less notable 

 than the sound of the first cuckoo or the sight of 

 the first swallow. 



There follows the little space of time in May and 

 the prime of June when when all green places are 

 bubbling with bird life. After that the lull 

 soon begins to be felt. Ear and eye are sensitive 

 to the change by midsummer, whilst in July and 

 August there are only a few signal features in the 

 life of our common birds, and these few well spaced 

 out. Four of them strike me season after season 

 the vibration of the turtle doves through the day ; 

 the vibration of the nightjars at dusk ; the almost 

 unceasing song of the greenfinches in August days ; 



