Peete Ue BlOPNE Bo U oD Ghat st N 13 
The Spring Comes on Little Cat Feet 
By DALE PONTIUS 
March 17: Cold, chilly, barren. Wooded Island in Jackson Park seemed to 
harbor nothing, The lagoons on both sides of the island were covered with 
ice, except for a few narrow open spaces along the shore. At one of 
these spots, a pair of mallards dipped in the water. 
Not a land bird was on the island, apparently, except for a few star- 
lings. I could not help but think what a difference there might be if the 
Chicago Park District were to plant some fruit-bearing trees and shrubs 
which would attract birds the entire winter. Stands of thick evergreens 
would furnish a protected roosting place at night, and the cones would 
possibly attract such birds as cross-bills and siskins. Weed patches might 
attract tree sparrows and juncoes. 
As I stood thinking, I suddenly heard a pair of juncoes joyously 
twittering, and no lovelier sound exists in nature than this, as out of 
the winter loneliness suddenly comes this richly melodic song. A pair of 
grackles, recent arrivals, crackled across the lagoon. The squirrels knew 
spring was coming. They frolicked up and down the trees, peeking out 
at me and chattering. The mating call was on schedule. 
March 19: If two days ago it seemed that winter was still here, today 
spring came in on little cat feet, inching across the bare earth. A single 
golden-eye duck sat along the margins of the ice across the east lagoon 
from Wooded Island. A few grackles were now flying about, and one 
lonely, forlorn robin was hunting for an early worm in the bushes along 
the side of the path. Two crows, looking as large as ravens, flew through 
the trees, landing on the golf green. And glory of glories, a cardinal piped 
up with spring enthusiasm. As I left over the north bridge, I looked into 
- the sky with my binoculars. Across my field of view flew a dozen cowbirds, 
beating their way northward in migration, Spring was here after all! 
March 22: Today was a bright, crisp day. On the north bridge a pair of 
bird watchers were trying to identify a duck swimming in the water be- 
hind a spit parallel to the shore opposite us. I got only a hasty glance 
before it dove beneath the water, and we never saw it again. Finally, I 
laughingly suggested it had drowned. From the brief view I had, I think 
it was a female mergianser. 
The ice was now gone from the west lagoon, but a thin layer remained 
over the east lagoon. A herring gull pranced on the ice in 'the sun. Now and 
then it seemed to find some food in the ice. Across the lagoon, many grackles 
sounded off. A number of mallards was now in the water all around the 
island, quacking restlessly, often flying wildly, the males fighting battles to 
win their females. 
Dozens of starlings were sitting in the trees, occasionally flying about 
and landing in the grass to look for food. Several males were outdoing 
themselves in song. The starling mimics fluently, and I began to pick out 
some amazing imitations. I made a list of all I heard, some of which I do 
not recall ever having noticed before. Most surprising of all was an imita- 
tion I heard twice distinctly — that of the warbling vireo, or of the orchard 
