An Evening with Birds in Florida 



liy J. W. IJl'I'INCO'l'l', HclliavKS, F.i. 



Tjj^ ^VEN in Moiida, wiiilcr is {\\v liiiu'ol" unskilled wfalhcr. In tlu' northcm 

 |i i);ui il may be So (l('fj;r('('s in the shade one day and 20 Iht' next. Never- 

 Iheless there are quantities of birds always at hand. At dawn Ihe 

 Mocker awakens tlie world by tliat harsli cry which evt-ry other Mockingbird 

 in Idorithi sei-nis to repi-at until the woods resound. Instantly Jays are heard, 

 Red-winged Blackbirds begin to tly, Flickers, Sai)suckers and other Woodpeckers 

 commence to feed; the Robins, Hying in Hocks, seek the edges of lakes where 

 gall berries are lipening, and from all kinds of impossible places, like bramble 

 thickets, i)almetto beds, and swamp tussocks comes a host of other birds. All 

 are busy until the sun is well up, then one after another vanishes —where one 

 rarely knows — until, just before night, the rush for roost ing-phices comes. 



Evening in Florida after a pleasant, sunny day is intensely interesting. 

 Let us say that one is moored in a boat in some grass- or lily-studded lake that 

 has a live-oak hummock on one side and on the other, grassy Hats, and then 

 the ])ine-C()vere(l sand-hills. The sun is very low, and the relied ions in the 

 t|uiel water clear-cut and manv-colored. 



Tree Swallows have just been (lii)ping their bills for the last hasty drink, 

 but now there is a hush — no bird is in sight. Then on the hori/on ap])ear several 

 dots; they come nearer steadily, but are high. Eight Little Blue Herons, two 

 in the whitish plumage of the young bird, pass westward. To the Hats now 

 drops a noisy band of Red-wings, and then silently a Hock of Meadowlarks, 

 the latter spreading among the grass instead of in the sedge clumps. Robins 

 that Ikia'C been feeding on simiac berries on a little island hurry away as if 

 making room for a dozen Doves that noisily alight in a clump of live oaks. 

 I'^rom the hunnnock comes the insistent rasp of lirown Thrashers which are 

 worried \)y some gray s(|uirrels overhead. Here, too, (^)uail are whistling not 

 the bob-while ol sunmier, but a more i)lainlive rallying call. Two Red-tailed 

 Llawks are already roosting in the moss-festooned live oaks, but they make no 

 sound. 



A mass like a cloud apiu\ars over the trees, cah, cah-hah, cah-cah. It is the 

 Crow army returning to the great roost on Sorghum Hill, near where the 

 Turkey Buzzards congregate for the night, on dead trees over the river - 44() 

 Florida Crows — the evening before it was 44c) — nai)])ing along in a straggling 

 column at least a mile long. They look at everything lluy pass, some sportively 

 swoop at a Sparrow Hawk, others circle and drop low to see what is going on 

 among the Meadowlarks. Curiosity impels others to follow, but they see tlie 

 main colunm tlying steacUly on, and so cjuickly rejoin it. Now and then a Crow- 

 drops back to talk to one far behind — ca/i-ai/i, cah-liali. The column fades 

 away toward the setting sun, and the even swish of nearly a thousand wings is 

 no longer heard, 



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