100 Union Bay 



the squall of rain which struck him. It was becoming a day 

 that waterfowl liked, and through my field glasses I could 

 now and then see a mallard or the white and black color of 

 a bufnehead, and once I distinguished the imposing flight 

 of several Canada geese, probably the five which had been 

 resting for the past ten days in Gadwall Cove. 



The few spectators near me made uncomplimentary re- 

 marks about the weather, but rain and wind did not bother 

 me as I was dressed for the colder work of paddling. Nobody 

 would have chosen this sort of a day for a track meet. Max- 

 imum speed and strength in sport are possible only when 

 weather conditions permit perfect control of body tempera- 

 ture, and when there is no undue chill to affect heavily 

 strained muscles. Nevertheless, the practicing track squads 

 made the best of it: they threw the javelin, put the shot, 

 pole vaulted, and jumped to get the feel of the track and of 

 the day. Runners in their heavy sweat outfits, necks protected 

 by a towel, kept in motion. To chill was serious. 



I looked around the stadium. I knew it well for I had lived 

 in the city a long time and had gone to football games when 

 I was a boy in grade school. And during the past year I had 

 learned about the stadium's internal structure, too, for the 

 man in charge of the various athletic fields had taken me 

 through the tunnels and underparts of the construction to 

 show me how many birds nested there— swallows which had 

 daubed their clay brackets, rude but useful nests,, in the 

 niches and even on the light globes. There they raised their 

 young and emerged to feed over the fields and water, a 

 choice which ordinarily insured them an ample supply of 

 food. The wild things had not been hesitant in using these 

 athletic grounds for their own purposes: the baseball field 

 as a parade ground for gulls in winter, the roof of the athletic 

 pavilion for a place of assembly when snow covered the 

 ground, the sides of the building as a nest site for cliff swal- 

 lows, and the stadium recesses as a summer home for barn 



