14 



Joint Bulletins 4 and 5 



During our first year ar. "The Highlands" a pair of screech owls came 

 often to this tree, and I learned that they have many additional 

 notes other than the familar "Who-o-o-o." They converse with each 

 other, often making a sobbing or whining sound, or a sweet whistle. 

 Our occupancy of the house has sent them back to the deep woods, 

 whence we hear, also, the hoot of the big horned owl. 



One of the interesting things I have noted is the regularity with' 

 which birds go to their nightly rest. I have tried the experiment of 

 feeding my chickadees particularly appetizing morsels at close of day, 

 but invariably when the shadows deepen they are off as by magic, and 

 at this time of year, never later than 4.30. In the morning they always 

 appear from the same direction in the woods below, and I have little 

 doubt, occupy one of the many woodpeckers' holes with which the trees 

 abound. 



For several years one of my greatest pleasures has been to watch 

 a flock of bluebirds, during late summer and early fall, winging their 

 way each night across our valley to a wooded hillside that long receives 

 the rays of the setting sun. As is well known, the call of the blue- 

 bird slightly more plaintive, perhaps, in fall than spring, is one of its 

 chief charms, and this flock calling softly in their evening flight, which 

 is timed almost to a minute, adds color and joy to the day. 



All are familiar with the evening flight of the crows and know 

 that they have their established rookeries and that migrating birds 

 in spring occupy the same 'roosts" from year to year. For the past five 

 years I have observed one of these not far from here in a small maple 

 grove bordering a meadow. This year such numbers of robins and black- 

 birds assembled there that various reports came to me that there were 

 thousands of birds to be seen on the meadow in the early morning. At 

 night the medley of sounds that came from that quarter was truly 

 marvelous, and above it sounded the call notes of the sentinels that 

 were beating "tattoo." Foggy nights in the fall may so confuse migrat- 

 ing birds, that another opportunity may be afforded to pick out in the 

 confusion of sounds the call notes of thrushes, robins, vireos or spar- 

 rows, and to find these same birds feeding in shady lanes the next 

 morning. 



It has been a satisfying discovery to me that the birds that l see 

 so familiarly by day about "The Highlands" are in the nearby trees 

 at night, and that their sleep seems not to be disturbed by anything 

 more serious than an exuberance of feeling that finds expression in 

 sleepy twitterings or thrilling song. 



