The Music of the INIarsh 



a l)iinch of hard berries, at first green, later almost 

 Avliite, and not good to eat. 



In early June on any thorn or ^\ illow growing 

 along the road to the marsh a short search will 

 re^'eal a treasure that I do not understand why The 

 poets fail to sino-. You find a dauffliny, oblon<jc ^^°th of 



^ , . % . . , ,.f ,.* . . ^ the Marsh 



cocoon, hanging from a twig by a bit ol spinning. 

 The outside appears as if it were coated with 

 lime and then wrapped in leaves, whose veining 

 shows with remarkable clearness. All the long 

 winter, during the cold rains, snows, ice, and winds, 

 it hangs and is buffeted; but by late ^Nlay or early 

 June a wet spot develops on the top. Soon a 

 strufffflina: biff nieht moth climbs out and clings 

 with its feet to the under side of a limb. 



There the crumpled wet wings straighten, ex- 

 pand, and develop a sweep of from six to six and 

 a half inches — larger than a wren — and take on 

 an indescribable richness of color. Almost every 

 shade from lightest tan to dark-brown makes up 

 a complicated series of linings and veinings, that 

 are brighter in color on the upper side and touched 

 with pink. Each wing has a transparent eye-spot 

 like isinglass, so that print can be read through it, 

 and the body and feet are covered with long, fine, 

 velvety do-wn. 



Tlie moths fly the first night after they emerge; 

 mate, deposit their eggs, and soon die. The cater- 

 jDillar tliat hatches, eats thorn or willow leaves, 



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