NESTLINGS OF FOREST AND MARSH 
chickadee family, for all had flown. The 
nest, lined with a soft felting of rabbit hair, 
was yet warm, and 
having watched 
other mother birds 
carry the excrement 
away from the nest, 
I was not surprised 
to find it as clean as 
though four babies 
had not just left it. 
Disappointed and 
discouraged, I turn- 
ed away. A walk 
through fragrant 
catbirds’ nooks and 
close by a brown 
thrasher brooding 
her young, brought me to a grove of tall 
oaks and hickories. Deep ravines purple 
with wild geranium, white with long-fruited 
anemones, and beautiful with ferns, ran 
zigzag through it. Just the place for 
whip-poor-will’s eggs, I thought. At this 
Location of chickadee’s nest 
