we will doubtless be able to record a 

 number of interesting home comers. 

 Sweeping- the skies in graceful evolu- 

 tions, the great silent Turkey Vultures 

 are showing unmistakeable delight at 

 being home again. Three giant trees 

 with huge cavities are awaiting their 

 tenants. They are typical '"Buzzard" 

 residences and at least one is occupied 

 every season. A month later a visit to 

 one of these homes will reveal the 

 mother Vultures silently covering two 

 great, handsome eggs, the most beau- 

 tifully marked of all bird's eggs. 



Upon all sides we hear a constant 

 rattling of the dead leaves covering the 

 ground and investigation shows the 

 presence of an army of Towhees. 

 These shy, but conspicuously feathered 

 birds have just arrived and are rapidly 

 turning over the leaves of their new 

 feeding grounds. His lively musical 

 "chewink" regularly dashed between 

 scratches, has a pleasing tinkle to ears 

 listening and longing for early spring 

 melodies. 



The Red-bellied and Red-headed 

 Woodpeckers, with the Flickers, arrive 

 in unison, augmenting the Hairy and 

 Downy forces already here. Such an 

 army of woodchoppers soon set the 

 chips a-flying, while the woods ring 

 with the combination of noise-making 

 efforts. The Hairy nests in April; the 

 Downy, Red-bellied and Flicker in 

 May; while the Red-head, for reasons 

 known only to himself waits until June 

 to begin housekeeping. 



Already we hear the loud emphatic 

 notes of the Great Crested Flycatcher, 

 one of the most interesting of our birds. 

 If he is not king of the woods, it is not 

 because he has not proclaimed himself 

 as such. His self-satisfied demeanor 

 and proud bearing would seem to indi- 

 cate his natural right to the honor, and 

 yet we do not know what he has done 

 to merit the title. He is an eccentric 

 fellow and through a peculiar inherited 

 trait he has puzzled the ornithologists 

 for ages. He exhibits an odd mania for 

 adorning the walls of his tree-cavity 

 home with cast off snake skins, — a bar- 

 baric taste which seems to be regulated 

 only by the source of supply. 



We do not visit the grove again until 



May, and lo! it is as though touched by 

 a magic wand. The trees are heavily 

 dressed in that eye-restful green, the 

 ground richly carpeted with "Blue-eyed 

 Marys" and Violets and the delightful 

 perfume of May apple blossoms per- 

 vades the air. Bees are humming and 

 birds are wildly singing. The eye is 

 delighted, the ear is ravished, the heart 

 is enraptured and held. 



At regular intervals a series of "Aeol- 

 ian" notes thrumb to the breeze; it is 

 the perfect melody of the Wood Thrush. 

 We hear the wildly happy carols of the 

 Rose-breasted Grosbeak, intermixed 

 with the "chip" "churs" of the Scarlet 

 Tanagers. The garrulous caws of the 

 Crows are softened by the sonorous 

 "quanks" of the Nuthatch. The hoarse 

 croaks of the ponderous Great Blue 

 Herons at work on their nests in the 

 tops of the honey locust trees, seem to 

 fill a natural place in the woodland con- 

 cert. Startlingly close to my elbow, I 

 hear the Red-eyed Vireo with his never 

 ending questions, "did you see me," 

 "prove it," "who saw me?" In his sad 

 and mournful strain the Wood Pewee 

 answers, "Wee-o." 



The quick, nervous calls of the 

 Crested Flycatcher, the excited cack- 

 ling of the Cooper's Hawk, the screams 

 of the Red-tail, the squawks of the 

 Night Heron and the resonant chal- 

 lenge of the querulous Jay, have their 

 parts in the woodland chorus. The 

 simple, earnest whistle of the Bob 

 White, the hurried warblings of the 

 House Wren, the soft mourning of the 

 Dove, the happy care-free ditties of the 

 Indigo Bunting and Yellow-throat, and 

 the sweet chatter of the Goldfinch are 

 so soothing in effect that I am content 

 to sit and listen to the wonderful med- 

 ley. The first days of May in the woods 

 surpass all others in the year, for it is 

 Nature's season of thanksgiving, when 

 birds and bees and flowers and trees 

 give praise and honor and glory to the 

 Creator. 



Evening's shadows are stealing upon 

 me and I am loth to leave, for well do 

 I know that a full cycle of months must 

 roll around before the 'glories of this 

 season shall be repeated. 



Isaac E. Hess. 



