Marsh Stjmphony 217 



money there is much that the marsh can do. It can say: here 

 are my wild people and the home in which I have put them. 

 Study them, or casually watch them; pry into their habits, 

 their coming and going, their birth and their dying. Visit 

 them regularly, if only for short times. See how their meth- 

 ods and program conform to the nooks and corners in which 

 they live and hunt their food. They nest as soon as, but not 

 before, the proper protective growth conceals the nesting 

 area. The young appear when the food supply suitable for 

 them is most easily obtained. The industry, the loyalty to 

 family, the dexterity of the nest building which, in many 

 cases, is being done for the first time, will surprise you. You 

 will be perplexed by the apparent lack of intelligence which 

 leads them into trouble and the inability with which they 

 meet the situation. You will soon know that, though you are 

 the equivalent of a small-town reporter, a sympathetic and 

 discerning examination of the things you see will be a con- 

 stant source of knowledge and pleasure. 



To those who think that the marsh is flat and formless and 

 without beauty I say that such a thought can be held only 

 by a person not acquainted with it. The marsh is without the 

 vastness and variety of design which marks the mountain 

 and seashore, but beauty cannot be measured in acreage or 

 by complexity. The simple vase and the single rose may at- 

 tract more admiration and attention than the large and im- 

 posing canvas. 



It is true that there are not a great many varieties of vege- 

 tation to work with in the marsh. In my trips I see few kinds 

 of trees— willows, alders, and cottonwoods. Many small 

 herbaceous plants find a footing. Some of them, such as the 

 mimulus with its yellow monkey-face, the small blue forget- 

 me-nots, yellow mustards, and water celery, are so scattered 

 as to be but tiny decorations on the general design. It is the 

 cattail, the giant bulrush, and the loosestrife which make up 



