WINTER SUNSHINE. 



23 



foot took hold of those hard, dry, gritty Maryland roads 

 with the keenest relish. How the leaves of the laurel 

 glistened! The distant oak woods suggested gray- 

 blue smoke, while the recesses of the pines looked 

 like the lair of Night. Beyond the District limits we 

 struck the Marlborough pike, which round and hard 

 and white, held squarely to the east and was visible a 

 mile ahead. Its friction brought up the temperature 

 amazingly and spurred the pedestrians into their best 

 time. As I trudged along, Thoreau's lines came nat- 

 urally to mind : — 



" When the spring stirs my blood 

 With the instinct of travel, 

 I can get enough gravel 



On the old Marlborough road." 



Cold as the day was (many degrees below freezing), 

 I heard and saw blue birds, and as we passed along 

 every sheltered tangle and overgrown field or lane 

 swarmed with snow-birds and sparrows — the latter 

 mainly Canada or tree sparrows, with a sprinkling of 

 the song, and, may be, one or two other varieties. 

 The birds are all social and gregarious in winter, and 

 seem drawn together by common instinct. Where you 

 find one, you will not only find others of the same 

 kind, but also several different kinds. The regular 

 winter residents go in little bands, like a well-organ- 

 ized pioneer corps — the jays and woodpeckers in ad- 

 vance, doing the heavier work ; the nuthatches next, 

 more lightly armed ; and the creepers and kinglets, 



