The Music of the Marsh 



You can hear what the lark tells the cardinal, the 

 cardinal tells the heron, the heron tells the duck, 

 the duck tells the turtle, the turtle tells the musk- 

 rat, the muskrat tells the bass, the bass tells the 

 water puppy, and the water puppy tells the eel, 

 all along your way. The story is musical because 

 it is recitative of freedom, living, and loving. 



But of all nature's minstrelsy the palm always 

 must be awarded the birds. The fact that the 

 music of the marsh is distinctive to the location, The Bird 

 only makes it dearer to those so in sympathy with Chorus 

 it as to interpret aright. Long before the marsh 

 is ready to receive them its feathered denizens are 

 hovering over it, filling the air with exquisite song 

 while they wait the laying of the foundation on 

 which to begin the superstructure of their homes. 

 Marsh Avrens intersperse their love-making with 

 scolding chatter because the rushes grow so slowly. 

 While they wait, red-winged blackbirds, true chil- 

 dren of the marsh, rock on the flags and sw r ell their 

 throats Avith notes so liquid and golden that in all 

 birdland the most exquisite singer can produce but 

 a faint breath of harmony above their "O-ka-lee!" 

 and "Con-quer-eee!" 



Counting out the pervasive, black-coated crow, 

 a permanent resident, the killdeer is the first mu- 

 sician to reach the marsh. In early seasons he ar- 

 rives in March; under any conditions he is sure in 

 April. When flocks of these birds circle against 

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