A BI-MONTHLY MAGAZINE 



UEVOTKD TO THE STUDY AND PROTECTION OF BIRDS 



Official Organ of The Audubon Socicties 



Vol. XIII September— October, 1911 No. 5 



Birds and Seasons in My Garden 



V. FLOCKING AND MIGRATING 

 By MABEL OSGOOD WRIGHT 



"Silently, among the trees, 



The Thrushes flock and disappear. 

 We hear their notes upon the breeze 

 And then — the singers are not here." 



A T last the drought of nearly the summer's length was broken. The 

 /-% weather rooster, that had pointed at the honeysuckle trellis to the 

 southwest so long that he had grown stiff in the joints, turned sharply 

 to face a tall spruce that stood between him and due East. The rain that came 

 as a vagrant shower saw the parched garden and the cattle in Bluebird 

 Farm, petulant from cropping growing hay, hesitated, and, losing its careless 

 impulse, settled into the steady rain of a week. When finally the clouds were 

 pierced by the sharp edge of the quarter moon, the land lay lush and green 

 once more, penetrated to the heart, the life-blood of rain reaching the life- 

 blood of the springs. Yet all unseen, unknown, a change had come. 



Not a colored leaf tinged the Virginia creeper draping garden and hedge, but 

 still autumn had taken possession with its advance guard. A Canada Nut- 

 hatch was performing its mouselike antics in the old apple-tree, and, at the 

 first burst of morning sunlight, the Crackles settled by the hundred in the 

 spruces, and then dropped, with the rustle of stout wind-blown oak leaves, to 

 the lawn. 



Year after year, this same flocking goes on, and yet somehow it always comes 

 as a surprise, especially in these later years when protection has swelled the 

 Crackle borders to rather appalling proportions. When, added to this mob, 

 we have an equally great flock of the alien Starlings, it makes one pause and, in 

 good faith and understanding, ask the question, "Has not the time arrived 

 when the protection given these birds should be limited, outside of the breeding 

 season?" Should not the landowner be allowed some discretion in the matter, 

 when the Crackles suddenly leave the lawn, to settle on a field of sweet corn 

 in the tender milky stage, and wreck all of the topmost ears. Of course, even 



