ALONG THE BEACH 125 



" The middle sea contains no crimson dulse, 

 Its deeper waves cast up no pearls to view ; 

 Along tlie sliore my hand is on its pulse. 

 And I converse with many a shipwrecked crew." 



Thoreau. 



A single herring gull would sweep by 

 over our heads out to sea or a few roseate 

 or Wilson's terns would keep us company 

 down the beach with slow wing-beats. 



Spotted sandpipers were continually 

 flushed at a few hundred yards apart all 

 the way to Gay Head. Crows would blow 

 up from behind the dunes where they had 

 been feeding on the bounty of the ocean 

 and sail off over the great surface of the 

 inland waters. As we drew near the end of 

 Herring Pond and entered a stretch of salt 

 marsh a kingbird hovered over the waving 

 grass and barn swallows caught many a 

 gnat as they whirled against or glided 

 down the wind. A song sparrow too sang 

 from the remnant of an old fence. 



Job's Neck Pond was link two in the 

 chain and a few least terns that seemed to 

 depend upon it for their food at once gave 

 it notoriety in the notebook. Two little 

 fluffy piping plover led us up the narrow 

 beach ; one at last sought refuge, when 



