July, 1890. a naturalist’s notes in north devon. 
145 
A FIELD-NATURALIST’S NOTES IN NORTH DEVON. 
BY O. V. APLIN, 
MEMBER OF THE BRITISH ORNITHOLOGISTS' UNION. 
In reviewing tlie following rough notes jotted down during 
a short visit to North Devon a few years ago, I cannot avoid 
the reflection that they contain far too much about the 
natural beauties of the district and too little concerning 
practical natural history. But that it should be so seemed 
unavoidable, for several reasons. There were difficulties to 
contend with in making careful observations, and it seemed 
impossible for an outdoor naturalist to visit this fascinating 
district for the first time without having most of his atten¬ 
tion absorbed by Nature on her grander and larger scale. 
And, perhaps, it may be fairly argued that the study of 
natural scenery—of Nature’s broadest effects—is, after all, the 
pursuit of field natural history in its widest, in its highest 
sense. 
The subject matter of the geologist will be the foundation 
of most of such scenes; and after hours spent in poring 
over the work of his hammer, and in the search after minute 
fossil remains, the geologist will not be less of a naturalist if 
he turns to refresh his energies by letting his tired eyes 
wander in admiration over the rounded beauties of a chalk 
down, or by scanning the broken line of those rugged cliffs, the 
while he marks the effects on the natural scenery produced 
by the disintegrating forces of rain, and sun, and storm, to 
which the rock is slowly yielding. Linnaeus, we are told, 
on seeing, for the first time in England a mass of golden 
whin in full bloom, fell on his knees at the brilliant appear¬ 
ance. And may not the humble wayside botanist experience 
a thrill of pleasure at the purple glories of a stretch of 
heather, the green shadings of a wooded liill-side, or the 
varied floral display with which the broken cliff is gay ? 
Zoology contributes birds and butterflies to give beautiful 
life to the picture, and we borrow from meteorology all those 
ever-changing effects of sunshine, and sky, and cloud, which, 
transient as they are, leave often such a lasting impression 
on the mind of the observer. 
A first visit, moreover, to a well known and favourite 
touring ground, in the height of the tourists’ season, is not 
the best time for making notes. One’s time is taken up with 
sight-seeing ; and the constant stream of one’s fellow tourists 
has generally a disastrous effect not only on the ferns but 
the local flora generally. It has also a tendency to drive the 
