<K ROUND A LONDON C O P S E ^ 



Without a path through it, without a border or 

 parterre, unvisited, and left alone, the orchard has 

 acquired an atmosphere of peace and stillness, 

 such as grows up in woods and far-away lonely 

 places. It is so commonplace and unpretentious 

 that passers-by do not notice it ; it is merely a cor- 

 ner of meadow dotted with apple trees a place 

 that needs frequent glances and a dreamy mood to 

 understand it as the birds understand it. They are 

 always there. In spring, thrushes move along 

 rustling the fallen leaves as they search among the 

 arum sheaths unrolling beside the sheltering pal- 

 ings. There are nooks and corners whence shy 

 creatures can steal out from the shadow and be 

 happy. There is a loving streak of sunshine 

 somewhere among the tree trunks. 



Though the copse is so much frequented the 

 migrant birds (which have now for the most part 

 gone) next spring will not be seen nor heard there 

 first. With one exception, it is not the first 

 place to find them. The cuckoos which come to 

 the copse do nor call till some time after others 

 have been heard in the neighbourhood. There 

 is another favourite copse a mile distant, and the 

 cuckoo can be heard near it quite a week earlier. 

 This last spring there were two days' difference 

 a marked interval. 



The nightingale that sings in the bushes on the 



13 -193- 



