because the bigger, louder birds have come back, 

 and the big leaves have come out and hidden him. 

 A little searching, and you will discover him, in one 

 of your old decayed fence posts, maybe, or else deep 

 in the swamp, foraging for a family so numerous 

 that they spill over at the door of their home. 



Here about the farm, this is sure to be a gray 

 birch home. Other trees will do — on a pinch. I 

 have found chickadee nesting in live white oaks, 

 maples, upturned roots, and tumbling fence posts. 

 These were shifts, however, mere houses, not real 

 homes. The only good homelike trees are old gray 

 birches dead these many years and gone to punk, — 

 mere shells of tough circular bark walls. 



Why has chickadee this very decided preference ? 

 Is it a case of protective coloration, — the little gray 

 and black bird choosing to nest in this little gray and 

 black tree because bird and tree so exactly match each 

 other in size and color.? Or (and there are many 

 instances in nature) is there a subtle strain of poetry 

 in chickadee's soul, something aesthetic, that leads 

 him into this exquisite harmony, — into this little gray 

 house for his little gray self ? 



Explain it as you may, it is a fact that this little 

 8i 



