132 FLOCKING ALREADY ! 



with rapid hesitanqr. That may be why the flock 

 is so crowded and compact, with scarcely room for 

 uninterrupted flight. In this eager flocking the 

 peculiarly deliberate antics of the solitary bird in 

 the spring marsh are entirely lost. 



Away they go out of sight behind the low treetops, 

 but their passing has brought vividly to mind the 

 ceaseless transformations of animated nature. We 

 may long for a period of repose or for the permanence 

 of the richness of summer, but the same inexorable 

 law of change, of death and resurrection, is relentlessly 

 unfolded. The unexpected flocking of the birds is 

 but one of many evidences of transition. High up on 

 a sturdy Elm the foliage on a solitary branch is taking 

 on a yellow tint. Here and there a Maple is touching 

 the dainty tips of its leaves with colour. The Golden- 

 rod is unfolding its rich and brilliant plumes. The 

 richest of the Purple Asters are glowing through the 

 interlaced green. And in the air there is that vague, 

 chill feeling of loss that seems an anticipation of the 

 inevitable decline of all that fills the season with joy 

 and satisfaction. 



