much more imagiuation. But I did it. I wanted 

 to hear, and the splash of the water helped me. 



The sounds of wind and water are the same 

 everywhere. Here at the heart of the city I 

 can forget the tarry pebbles and painted tin 

 whenever my rain-pipes are flooded. I can 

 never be wholly shut away from the open coun- 

 try and the trees so long as the winds draw 

 hard down the alley past my window. 



But I have more than a window and a broken 

 rain-pipe. Along with my five flights goes a 

 piece of roof, flat, with a wooden floor, a fence, 

 and a million acres of sky. I could n't possibly 

 use another acre of sky, except along the east- 

 ern horizon, where the top floors of some twelve- 

 story buildings intercept the dawn. 



With such a roof and such a sky, when I must, 

 I can, with effort, get well out of the city. I 

 have never fished nor botanized here, but I have 

 been a-birding many times. 



Stone walls do not a prison make, 



nor city streets a cage— if one have a roof. 



A roof is not an ideal spot for bird study. I 

 would hardly, out of preference, have chosen 

 [4] 



