VI 



FROM the date of my arrival at the village in 

 May, until I left it early in July, the great annual 

 business of pairing, nest-building, and rearing the 

 young was going on uninterruptedly. The young 

 of some of the earliest breeders were already 

 strong on the wing when I took my first walks 

 along the hedgerows, still in their early, vivid 

 green, frequently observing my bird through a 

 white and rose-tinted cloud of apple-blossoms; 

 and when I left some species that breed more 

 than once in the season were rearing second 

 broods or engaged in making new nests. On my 

 very first day I discovered a nest full of fully 

 fledged blue tits in a hole in an apple tree; this 

 struck me as a dangerous place for the young 

 birds; as the tree leaned over towards the lane, 

 and the hole could almost be reached by a person 

 standing on the ground. On the next day I went 

 to look at them, and approaching noiselessly 



73 



