THE OPEN WINDOW 



One season we opened the house before the middle 

 of April ; in our climate that means winter weather and 

 a scarcity of food, so the birds were very grateful for 

 the nuts and seeds placed on a board covering my win- 

 dow box. The nuthatches and chickadees, the juncos 

 and even the catbirds made me many a visit, but one 

 morning in early May a song sparrow shyly ventured 

 to the sill and helped himself from the seed dish with 

 many a rapid glance about. From that time until the 

 end of September every day that lovely bird came 

 daintily to his meals at my open window. Always he 

 approached in the same manner, a swift flight to the 

 maple tree from which he scanned the board, a gentle 

 hop along the nearest branch, a step to the chimney 

 shelf, thence, still hopping, to the sill and coveted dish. 

 Unlike the chickadee and nuthatch, who announced 

 their approach, the song sparrow kept a discreet silence 

 when eating, only the crunching of seeds as the shells 

 dropped back into the dish betraying his presence. If 

 not disturbed he generally took from thirty to fifty 

 seeds before leaving, but on one particularly hungry 



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