THE RETURN OF THE BIRDS. 



O PRING in our northern climate may fairly be said 

 ^ to extend from the middle of March to the mid- 

 dle of June. At least, the vernal tide continues to rise 

 until the latter date, and it is not till after the summer 

 solstice that the shoots and twigs begin to harden and 

 turn to wood, or the grass to lose any of its freshness 

 and succulency. 



It is this period that marks the return of the birds, 

 — one or two of the more hardy or half-domesticated 

 species, like the song-sparrow and the bluebird, usu- 

 ally arriving in March, while the rarer and more brill- 

 iant wood-birds bring up the procession in June. But 

 each stage of the advancing season gives prominence 

 to certain species, as to certain flowers. The dandelion 

 tells me when to look for the swallow, the dog-toothed 

 violet when to expect the wood-thrush, and when I have 

 found the wake-robin in bloom I know the season is 

 fairly inaugurated. With me this flower is associated 

 not merely with the awakening of Robin, for he has 

 been awake some weeks, but with the universal awaken- 

 ing and rehabilitation of nature. 



Yet the coming and going of the birds is more or 

 less a mystery and a surprise. We go out in the morn- 



