42 HILLSIDE, ROCK, AND DALE 



rising sun penetrate the leaves I have often heard a 

 simultaneous outburst of song, seeming as though 

 every tree had a concert in itself, for every tree in 

 the wood contains its band of singers. No written 

 description can picture the effect, or give any idea of 

 the glorious and wonderful melody. Thrushes rise 

 to the taller trees and call out their far-reaching 

 notes. They sit facing the east, and the yellow 

 beams light up their spotted breasts ; their beaks are 

 raised, and they sing, as it were, to the sun. Black- 

 birds, with their more mellow songs, whistle out a 

 few wild notes here, then fly on, and each green tree 

 and every flower-covered corner is enlivened by their 

 music. They travel round the wood, now rising to 

 the height of the pines, then descend with fluttering 

 wings and spread tail and settle on a holly bush ; but 

 at every halting-place they give out their music, for 

 they, too, sing to the sun. Then in the lower bushes 

 and among the tall, wild parsley, whitethroats sing, 

 hovering a moment over the hedge just to catch a 

 fly, then drop back again ; but still they give their 

 love-calls, and sing to their mates in the well-hidden 

 nests. Garden-warblers sit in the smaller trees, and 

 between their busy moments they are hunting for 

 early insects they find time to sing to the morning, 

 and a pretty song it is, sweet and like the sunbeams, 

 bringing joy to all around. But of all the songs in 

 the wood at early morning I love the blackcap's best. 



