FIELD AND STUDY 



of the eye and mind to read her signals, to penetrate 

 her screens, to disentangle her skeins, to catch her 

 significant facts, add greatly to the pleasure of a 

 walk and to life in the country. Natural history is 

 on the wing, and all about us on the foot. It hides 

 in holes, it perches on trees, it runs to cover under 

 the stones and into the stone walls; it soars, it sings, 

 it drums, it calls by day, it barks and prowls and 

 hoots by night. It eats your fruit, it plunders your 

 garden, it raids your henroost, and maybe disturbs 

 your midnight slumbers. 



At Woodchuck Lodge the woodchucks eat up my 

 peas and melons and dig under the foundations of 

 my house; the coons come down off the mountain 

 for sweet apples in my orchard. I surprise the foxes 

 among the cows on my early morning walks, or am 

 awakened in the dawn by the hue and cry of the 

 crows over a fox passing near, a little late in getting 

 back to the cover of the woods. 



All such things add interest to country life. No 

 wild creature comes amiss, even though it rob your 

 henroost. I sometimes grow tender toward the wood- 

 chuck, even though he raids my garden; he is such 

 a characteristic bit of wild nature, creeping about 

 the fields, or sitting upon his haunches to see if 

 danger is near. He is of the earth, earthy, its true 

 offspring, steeped in its savors, hugging it close, 

 harmonizing with its soil and rocks, almost as liquid 

 as its fountains and as perennial as its grass. 



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