SPEINO 



food. From time to time he sent forth 

 his trilling message of love upon the 

 still night and started his nocturnal 

 wanderings in search of a mate. In 

 the grey of the dawn, well fed and far 

 from his home tree, he climbed to some 

 hollow limb to sleep through the day. 



Steaming up from the drying earth 

 the pungent odours of dead leaves and 

 moss arose, filling the air with the very 

 essence of Spring. This is the indomit- 

 able call of the out-of-doors. It is not 

 the light of the morning, nor the length- 

 ening of days, nor the call of the first 

 robin which awakens the Spring unrest, 

 but the magic breeze that floats in at 

 the open window, laden with memories 

 of a glorious green earth. This is the 

 potent incense which awakens the 

 ancestral vagabondage of man and 

 drives him out to seek the healing of 

 the sky and fields and woods. 



Who has not climbed to some hill top 

 where the great mellow winds of Spring 

 blow down from heaven, or stood upon 

 some river marge, or, passing by the 

 forest's edge, caught the sweet wood- 

 odour of the newly-born season and, 

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