320 NOTES ON NEW ENGLAND BIRDS 



fore me on the railroad causeway as I walk. It has two 

 white feathers in its tail. 



Jan. 20, 1853. I see where snowbirds 1 in troops have 

 visited each withered chenopodium that rises above the 

 snow in the yard — and some are large and bushlike — 

 for its seeds, their well-filled granary now. There are a 

 few tracks reaching from weed to weed, where some have 

 run, but under the larger plants the snow is entirely 

 trodden and blackened, proving that a large flock has 

 been there and flown. 



March 31, 1853. I afterward heard a fine concert 

 of little songsters along the edge of the meadow. Ap- 

 proached and watched and listened for more than half 

 an hour. There were many little sparrows, difficult to 

 detect, flitting and hopping along and scratching the 

 ground like hens, under the alders, willows, and cor- 

 nels in a wet leafy place, occasionally alighting on a low 

 twig and preening themselves. They had bright-bay 

 crowns^ two rather indistinct white bars on wings, an 

 ashy breast and dark tail. These twittered sweetly, 

 some parts very much like a canary and many together, 

 making it the fullest and sweetest I have heard yet, — 

 like a shopful of canaries. The blackbirds may make 

 more noise. About the size of a song sparrow. I think 

 these are the tree sparrow. Also, mixed with them, and 

 puzzling me to distinguish for a long time, were many 

 of the fox-colored (?) sparrows mentioned above, with 

 a creamy cinnamon-tinged ashy breast, cinnamon shoul- 

 derlet, ashy about side head and throat, a fox-colored 



1 [Thoreau used the term snowbird indefinitely, of any small sparrow- 

 like bird, seen in winter.] 



