9 o 
THE ESSEX NATURALIST! 
a single bird worthy of a field-glass ; and, on inland waters, 
I have been distinctly unfortunate with the vagrants which 
elsewhere have been so often the reward of such rambles. \et, 
in a way, these wild marsh districts of Essex have a mysterious 
charm of their own. One spends a day in their muddy laby¬ 
rinths, getting few plants or insects, seeing no interesting birds ; 
and, in the evening, one leaves them with a sense of puzzled en¬ 
joyment, noting the places for further visits and re-visits. 
The Redwing, I find, sings frequently during its stay in the 
county, but is extremely shy during the performance. The 
song has a close resemblance to the confused chatter of a flock 
of the Starlings that so often occupy the same trees, and this 
fact, which so often conceals the Redwing’s song from the casual 
observer, may well be used instead as a clue.' 2 3 * The 1915-16 
winter was remarkable for a great scarcity, both of this bird 
and of the Fieldfare, but on the night of the 25th March 1916 I 
noticed a considerable movement of Redwings between 8.0 
and 9.0 p.m., a dozen calls being heard during a hundred yards’ 
walk. At Theydon Bois, in 1917 and again in 1918, we had 
the experience 8 of a cock Blackbird coming daily to spar for 
hours at a time with its own reflection in a neighbour’s window. 
In 1918 a Song Thrush reared two broods from one nest 
in my porch at Theydon Bois. 
The Whinchat nests annually on the railway side at Theydon 
Bois—and of course elsewhere in other parts of the county ; 
I have often seen the adult birds, and noted the peculiar grating 
or jarring voice of the fledglings. 
In 1916 my attention was drawn to the extraordinary rarity 
of the Goldcrest in various parts of England, and since that 
year I have not seen an undoubted example, nor have I heard 
its note. Unfortunately, I failed to remember if I had, or had 
not, seen the bird in its old breeding haunts in Essex in 1916. 
In previous years it had been under daily notice. Late in 1918 
my wife reported a doubtful example in the Forest, and I heard 
what may have been the note a few days later. On 29th Dec. 
1918 we both watched, at close quarters, a Goldcrest in the 
Forest. I was, however, puzzled by the unusual voice—a sound, 
2 Zoologist, 1911, p. 361. 
3 Not unprecedented ; T. A. Coward, Mem. Manchester [Lit. and Phil. Soc., vol. 59 
1915), No. 7. 
