a seemingly interminable period. Usual- 

 ly, however, about the second week in 

 March a miracle is performed. One 

 morning- the sun rises in a cloudless 

 sky, a gentle 'clinging breeze creeps in 

 from the south and we hear soft whis- 

 pers of promises in the air. Even the 

 .dead snow on the southern slopes 

 seems to awaken into life and with a 

 last flash and sparkle, disappears. 

 Something, invisible but intoxicating, 

 lays hold upon us and we are restless. 

 From past experiences, we know that all 

 nature is responding to the voice of 

 spring and we are seized with an irre- 

 sistible longing to hasten to the grove 

 and tell it to the birds. Before we reach 

 the woods, however, we find the secret 

 is out. The birds already know it and 

 have been for' days preparing to cele- 

 brate this very morning. High m the 

 air, from some quarter in heaven, it 

 seems, comes softly floating down the 

 first Bluebird notes of the season. 

 Surely these little birds with the blue 

 sky on their backs, are blessed with in- 

 tuitive power, for are they not here and 

 does this not prove that a day and a 

 night's journey away, they had heard 

 the whisperings of spring? 



Entering the woods we find the 

 Crows wild with .delight, and would you 

 beheve it? — there is almost melody in 

 their caws to-day. High overhead a 

 Red-tailed Hawk is lazily drifting and 

 I shortly find his mate reconstructing 

 their last summer's home. Here again 

 we see evidence of several days' antici- 

 pation of spring's arrival. How do they 

 know? Does Nature in her loving min- 

 istrations speak to these, her wilder 

 children, in quite another language? 

 How humiliating to feel that we, of the 

 genus "homo" — heirs of a superior in- 

 teUigence, are tardiest of all God's crea- 

 tures in interpeting Nature's various 

 tongues. 



The fine March morning brings out 

 the entire feathered population of the 

 grove with the exception of the three 

 resident owls. The Great Horned, 

 Little Screech and Long-eared repre- 

 sentatives of this family are not attracted 

 by the sunshine and remain in hiding 

 in the dark corners and hollow trees. 

 They arc among the few birds that are 

 little affected with changes in weather 

 conditions. 



From every quarter of the timber 

 comes the rolling taps of the Downy 

 and Hairy Woodpeckers. These vigor- 

 ous little fellows have found their favor- 

 ite sounding boards and each key of 

 the scale is represented, with all the 

 sharps and flats. Interspersed with the 

 rolls, we hear the loud "chinks" of the 

 excited Jiairy Woodpeckers and the 

 same notes of lesser volume, from his 

 miniature cousin, the Downy. 



Running up and down the main 

 trunks of the trees we see numbers of 

 White-breasted and Red-beUied Nut- 

 hatches — the little upside-down birds. 

 The former is a constant resident with 

 us and is perhaps even now looking for 

 a suitable site in which to rear his in- 

 teresting family of eight or nine chil- 

 dren. The latter, however, is not sat- 

 isfied to stay with us and within a few 

 weeks will be well on his way toward 

 his northern summer home in Canada. 



Following the Nuthatches in their 

 search for insects in the bark, are the 

 Brown Creepers. These tiny little birds 

 have a peculiar habit which distinguish- 

 es them from other species at a dis- 

 tance. Ascending the trunk of a tree 

 in a spiral climb, they usually leave 

 it after reaching the first limb. A short 

 flight then brings them to the bottom 

 of the next tree, which is mounted in 

 the same manner, each tree in turn 

 being ascended round and round, in a 

 way suggestive of an inclined plane. 

 The long, curved bill of this bird enables 

 it to reach the inner crevices of the bark 

 and obtain the insect food passed over 

 by the larger birds. The notes of the 

 Creeper are so like those of the little 

 Kinglets, that they are with difficulty 

 distinguished. The spring love-song of 

 the Kinglet, however, is a superior pro- 

 duction; in fact, one of the richest of all 

 bird melodies. Only snatches of it are 

 heard here, just enough to prove the 

 little performer worthy of the praises 

 bestowed upon it by its fervent admir- 

 ers from the north. Both of these 

 diminutive birds speiid the summer 

 months in the pine woods of the north- 

 ern states and Canada. 



With the Woodpeckers, Nuthatches 

 and Creepers performing their several 

 parts, the trees are fairly well stripped 

 of insect life, the outer branches only 

 being neglected. Here we find that 



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