182 BIRDS AND MAN 



On your right hand, on your own side of the 

 narrow sea, you have a good view of the big 

 young growing town of Weston-sqper-Mare — 

 Bristol's Margate or Brighton as it has been called. 

 It is built of Bath stone, and at this distance 

 looks grey, darkened with the slate roofs, and a 

 little strange; but the sight is not unpleasant, and 

 if you wish to retain that pleasant impression, 

 go not nearer to it than Brean Down, since on a 

 nearer view its aspect changes, and it is simply 

 ugly. On your left hand you look over long 

 miles, long leagues, of low flat country, extending 

 to the Parret River, and beyond it to the blue 

 Quantock range. That low land is on a level 

 with the sea, and is the flattest bit of country in 

 England, not even excepting the Ely district. 

 Apart from the charm which flatness has in 

 itself for some persons — it has for me a very 

 great charm on account of early associations — 

 there is much here to attract the lover of nature. 

 It is the chief haunt and paradise of the reed 

 warbler, one of our sweetest songsters, and here 

 his music may be heard amid more perfect 

 surroundings than in any other haunt of the 

 bird known to me in England. 



