Ue faeces cO.N ea Baeble bole N 
One June morning that same 1959 summer a Blue 
Jay was having a violent aerial battle with our nesting 
Wood Pewee and House Wren. There was much diving, 
pecking and indignant screeching by the little birds. Sud- 
denly Father Cardinal came down from his nonchalant 
whistling high on the power line and turned policeman. 
He boxed the Blue Jay in the bottom of a huge lilac bush 
for five minutes, darting at him fiercely whenever he tried 
to fly up. Finally, the Jay flew meekly away in the oppo- 
site direction from the nest area followed sedately by the 
scarlet clad policeman. 
The Ruby-throated Hummingbirds feed on our Wild 
Columbine, Wood Lily, and Bouncing Bet as well as on 
our man-made sugar water feeder. One June Mrs. Hummy 
and her young seemingly staked out our feeder and 
wouldn't allow Father in to feed at all. The live- 
liest aerial battles ensued, moving almost too fast for 
human eye to follow. The mother sat in the branch just 
above the feeder, poised for attack, and he never did get in 
to it, despite numerous attempts. Once we had 23 female 
or young hummy visits in an hour, but it was impossible 
to tell how many different birds were involved. In her 
Song Sparrow studies Margaret Nice could tell individual 
birds appart, but I am not so gifted especially with Hum- 
mingbirds. In the early morning when the sun is still low, 
the rays seem to shine through hummingbird wings, mak- 
ing them visible. Ordinarily you can’t see the wing at 
all, just a blur. 
The Wood Betony is covered with its rows of tiny 
spoonlike seeds. A clump of Ping Vetch has flowers of 
lovely soft rose and pale yellow shadings. In one area of 
open sand, the only active dune near us, there are about 
fifteen ant lion funnels in about two square yards. | won- 
der what determines choice of this place instead of another. 
This is also a particularly good place to find earth stars, 
one of my favorite mushrooms. 
Tomorrow is July 1. Another spring is gone from 
these lovely woods. So often I wonder what will be here 
for our grandchildren and great grandchildren when they 
come wandering down these sandy lanes. Will they find 
the refreshment for their souls that is here today? Years 
ago Thoreau wrote, “‘In wildness is the preservation of the 
world.’’ The Sierra Club has used this prophecy widely. 
Let it be our watchword, too. 
1159 E. 56th, Chicago 
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