CONCORD 
Starting at 9 o*clock this morning, I drove to 
Hall*s birches and spent the forenoon there, having my 
buggy driven home, and back again for me about noon. 
fMany of the birch copses have been cut away over 
the ground since I was there last, changing its appearance 
materially. There is abundant cover remaining, however, 
and it was fairly well supplied with birds, most of them 
common species, and all summer residents, not a single 
migrant being seenTj 
As I passed through the birches lining the turn¬ 
pike and entered the old apple orchard the scene was 
equally attractive to three of the senses — sight, smell 
and hearing. The apple trees were snowy domes of blossoms 
which scented the air with their delicate fragrance and 
among which countless bees droned and hummed. The orchard 
was framed on every side by a setting of the tenderest 
green with every now and then a touch of salmon red, marking 
the position of a solitary maple with its clusters of 
winged seeds. Three Brown Thrashers were singing at once 
in different directions, their varied notes drowning the 
weaker voices of the Warblers and Sparrows. Every now and 
then, however, the song of a Chestnut-sided Warbler, or 
Black and White Creeper would rise above the din, and in 
the distance I occasionally caught the zee dee dee of a 
