SPRING AND AUTUMN BY THE SHORE 



favours us in spring and autumn, is, like the woodcock, 

 a " here to-day, gone to-morrow" sort of bird. But 

 the rare Kentish plover still haunts the lonelier parts of 

 the coastline of Kent and Sussex, and, unlike his grey 

 cousin, who must reach the far north of Asia, Russia, 

 or America for his nesting business, brings up his 

 interesting little family, like his near relative the ring- 

 plover, on British soil, close to the shore. This bird 

 is, I fancy, fairly often mistaken for the much commoner 

 ring-plover ; but its black legs easily distinguish it 

 from the orange understandings of that bird. The 

 neck collar, too, is incomplete in front. 



There are certain rare days in spring, soft, balmy, 

 perfect days, which bring an indefinite rapture to the 

 senses ; when one feels almost as if one could stretch 

 forth one's hands and bless and embrace the soft breeze 

 and the sweet atmosphere that touches one's cheek. 

 This is surely one of them ! The harsh winds have 

 gone, spring is truly here, all nature seems to rejoice. 

 The ring-plover has vanished, but yonder oyster- 

 catcher, a hundred yards away, brave in his spring 

 plumage, pied handsomely in black and white, with 

 orange bill and purplish legs, sets the note of the 

 season. It is manifest that he is courting, displaying 

 himself in all his finery to the lady of his choice a few 

 paces nearer the sea. He is a late arrival, I fancy, and 

 has but recently addressed himself to his inamorata. 

 The peewits are already nesting, and the male birds are 

 tumbling and wheeling above the flat, green marsh 

 meadows in that curious way of theirs, uttering pene- 

 trating cries that one can hear away over here by the 

 still spring sea. The sky is pale blue ; light westerly 

 clouds sailing, miracles of fleecy whiteness, across the 

 clear expanse ; a nightingale trills fitfully in the black- 

 thorn yonder, occasionally pouring forth those marvel- 



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