146 



Gyngell : The Singing Time of Birds. 



The bird tells us very little in a song- somewhat resembling that 

 of the Blackbird, but, after the cheerless days of December, it is 

 always doubly welcome. Once, when we had a few very bright 

 days about Christmas, I heard the bird singing- in December, but 

 this was most exceptional. 



About the same time in January the Song- Thrush or Throstle 

 may also be heard pouring forth his more artistic melody, usually 

 from a tree branch, though not so invariably high perched as 

 the Missel Thrush. 



The Blackbird rarely commences singing before February, 

 but I have heard him on 31st January. Of deeper tone, and 

 really more musical though less varied, than the song of the 

 Thrush, the Blackbird's voice is full and rich, and the song is 

 sung- in slower time than most other birds. 



Before January is out we shall almost certainly hear that 

 most modest of birds the Hedge Sparrow, whose rather quiet, 

 though cheerful, simple ditty may be heard in a hedge or garden 

 bush, though not unfrequently under the demoralising" influence 

 of civilisation he desce?ids from a hedge to a house roof. 



The Skylark, who has made feeble demonstrations of song- 

 all through the winter, now bursts out in all the fulness and 

 variety of song for which he is so deservedly appreciated. His 

 earlier wxak attempts, accompanied by a very unambitious 

 hovering in air, now give place to a long-sustained upward 

 and spiral soaring flight, which carries the singer up and up 

 almost out of sight before he finally, and seemingly reluctantly, 

 descends again to man's estate. He is indeed a miserable 

 Englishman who knows not the song of the Lark. 



And in January, too, when the dog's mercury tries to raise 

 its heavy head, we may hear the first soft coo of the Ring Dove, 

 Y{oo-hoo-\\oo-/ioo-hoo, ' Tak two coos Jamie/ sung from some big 

 tree branch, though the bird has not yet so given himself up to 

 love-making- that he roosts with his mate instead of a hundred 

 in a flock. 



The song of the Stock Dove, less well known, is a simple 

 disyllable, Hoo-wook, hoo-wook, and very dove-like. Coming* 

 home from our afternoon walk before the early sun has set we 

 may now also hear the deep hoot of the Tawny Owl. 



When February brings still brigJifer days we shall find that 

 most of the January singers have improved their voices in both 

 streng'th and quality. There is an increasing amount of food 

 about now, and an ever-increasing- number of hours daily in 

 which it can be obtained, and this allows more and more time 



Naturalist, 



