256 The N.Z. Journal of Science and Technology. [July 
to the cry of any titmouse. Fereday long ago suggested the acclimatization 
of this bird ; Bathgate doubted if it would stand the sea voyage—and it 
apparently would not, as it is not among the number of birds of which 
repeated importations have been made. It has been attempted to introduce 
the nightingale, white-throat, robin, twite—but all without success. 
As regards setting aside an island upon which observations might be 
made on any doubtful bird before liberating it on the mainland, what con¬ 
veniently situated island would be suitable ? It would be of no use observ¬ 
ing the birds in confinement; and the starling has shown, by its establishing 
a night roost on Toko, an islet near Kapiti, that a couple of miles of ocean 
forms no bar to a bird. 
Doubtless a larger number of species of British birds would, as was 
suggested, help readers to enter more sympathetically into the moods 
and thoughts of the great masters of English literature — always provided 
they remember that the seasons are reversed, and that whereas Britain 
is in large part bare of leaf in winter, New Zealand is largely evergreen. 
Here there can never be the joyous coming of the birds in the merry month 
of May ; such as we have never leave us, excepting the little-known cuckoo. 
Britain's migrating birds refuse to accept this as a new home, and amongst 
them are the sweetest singers- -the birds of the poets — the nightingale, the 
blackcap, the white-throat. The immortal skylark we always have, and the 
joyous thrush sings during practically nine months of the year, being silent 
only during the moult. But if ours is not the merry month of May, we have 
no drear-nighted December ; for in that month the trees are in their green 
felicity, and the sun cometh as a bridegroom from his chamber, and rejoiceth 
as a giant to run his course. Johannes C. Andersen. 
Wellington, 31st May, 1918. 
Clouds over Wireless Station. 
Sir, — I should be glad if any of your readers can give an explanation of 
a curious phenomenon recently observed over the wireless station on the 
Tinakori Hills, Wellington, and can indicate whether anything similar has 
been observed at any other wireless station. On the afternoon of the 17th 
May, between 3.30 and 4 p.m., I noticed what looked like a faint pencil of 
light-grev cloud on top of the northern mast. On the 19th, about the same 
time of day, the same phenomenon occurred, and again very faintly on the 
20th. My point of view was from Sydney Street, which is slightly more 
than 900 ft. below the station. On each occasion the day was fine, with a 
few light clouds, the 17th and 19th being fairly calm, with a little more wind 
on the 20th. Although the station has been in operation for some years, 
I have never previously witnessed anything of the kind. 
Wellington, 28th May, 1918. Marjorie K. Mestayer. 
[This question was referred to Professor H. Clark, Victoria University 
College, who suggests the following explanation :— 
“ It is well known that air, in rising to region of lower pressure, expands 
and cools. The water-vapour which it contains may become saturated; in 
quite clean air it may become supersaturated. A great electrical stress 
ionizes air, and the ions act as nuclei for condensation. Thus a cloud 
would form about the high-tension electrical conductors if the air at the 
summit of the hill were slightly supersaturated.’’ — Ed.] 
By Authority: Marcus F. Marks, Government Printer Wellington—1918. 
[2,000/5/18—7316 
