were singing.
  I lunched about sunset at the cold spring &
and for nearly an hour afterwards, or until it
began to grow dark, lay in the grass by its side,
smoking and listening to the birds. There were
three different Meadow Larks whistling at times
and nearly constantly, two. the Bobolinks sang a
little at sunset but rather listlessly. A Grass Finch
sitting on a stake within 30 yds. of me gave me
a delicious serenade singing sotto voce at times,
then in full tones. In an opening where the grass
had been cut a Meadow Lark, evidently a [female], was
feeding while her mate sang in the top of
an elm. It was very pleasant in this great
breezy field flecked with daisys and buttercups and
I lingered long and left reluctantly at about 7.45.