Songs of the Fields 



they bloom so late that while tlie leaves are yet 

 tender and of paler green than later in the season, 

 many of them are full size and dark enough in 

 color to form a backgroimd that emphasizes the 

 daintiness and purity of the blooms and makes 

 them the beauties of the entire haw family. The 

 fruit is scarlet in color and not good to eat. 

 The flowers will set the joy-song singing in any 

 appreciative heart, and their perfume calls 

 uy) a choir of half-intoxicated, nectar-loving in- 

 sects. 



I have seen night hawks soaring late in the 

 evening above old orchards, and heard whip-poor- 

 wills cry there, but I think they only settled in Night 

 flight for a time, as thev might in anv secluded '^"*"^ 



■ in tn6 



growth of trees. The night bird that really homes, orchard 

 breeds, and lives there summer and winter is the 

 screech owl. It would be the funniest thing in 

 ornithology to see a plucked screech owl or i)arrot. 

 Small owls are such comical creatures in their 

 feathers, such caricatures of their great horned 

 relatives of the forest! 



IMost familiar in the orchards are the little 

 brown screechers, and slightly larger ones of a 

 cool gray, tan, brown, and black coloring. I am 

 very fond of them because I know so well how 

 happy they are, how unusually secure in the hol- 

 low apple tree, and how successful their hunting. 

 I believe they have less cause than many other birds 



269 



