VII 

 NATURE LEAVES 



I. IN WAKBLEH TIME 



THIS early May morning, as I walked tlirough 

 the fields, the west wind brought to me a sweet, 

 fresh odor, like that of our httle white sweet violet 

 (Viola blanda). It came probably from sugar maples, 

 just shaking out their fringehke blossoms, and from 

 the blooming elms. For a few hours, when these trees 

 first bloom, they shed a decided perfume. It was the 

 first breath of May, and very welcome. April has 

 her odors, too, very delicate and suggestive, but 

 seldom is the wind perfumed with the breath of 

 actual bloom before May. I said. It is warbler time; 

 the first arrivals of the pretty httle migrants should 

 be noted now. Hardly had my thought defined itself, 

 when before me, in a little hemlock, I caught the 

 flash of a blue, white-barred wing; then glimpses of 

 a yellow breast and a yellow crown. I approached 

 cautiously, and in a moment more had a full view 

 of one of our rarer warblers, the blue-winged yeUow 

 warbler. Very pretty he was, too, the yellow cap, 

 the yellow breast, and the black streak through the 

 eye being conspicuous features. He would not stand 

 to be looked at long, but soon disappeared in a 

 near-by tree. 



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