File:Bird lore (1911) (14752059371).jpg

Identifier: birdlore131911nati (find matches)
Title: Bird lore
Year: 1899 (1890s)
Authors: National Committee of the Audubon Societies of America National Association of Audubon Societies for the Protection of Wild Birds and Animals National Audubon Society
Subjects: Birds Birds Ornithology
Publisher: New York City : Macmillan Co.
Contributing Library: Smithsonian Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: Biodiversity Heritage Library

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ack and White Warbler, among ourfriendly birds, in spite of the fact that they are theoretically counted shy. Gradually, as April reaches toward May and there is only a weeks spacebetween them, I expect at any moment the arrival of the first three of thesextet of great soloists that have come to be a part of the very garden itself,and as much to be counted upon as the succession of border flowers. Thefirst three are the Brown Thrasher, Wood Thrush and Catbird; the second,the Rosebreasted Grosbeak, the Orchard and Baltimore Orioles. 72 Bird-Lore It seems to me, also, that I always discover the first comer of each speciesin ahnost the same place each year. The Thrasher is either seen scratchingabout the footpath, leading to some dense shrubbery immediately back ofthe house, or else, selecting a spot where the early morning sun strikes fullupon the bushes, this gallant yet coy minstrel spreads himself flat in thewarmth, like a bit of clothing spread to dry upon a hedge. His first sign of
Text Appearing After Image:
A GROUP OF SPRUCES ON A KNOLL ABOVE THE POOL . . .HARBORED A NEST OF GREEN HEBRONS life is to comb out a dew-moist wing with an adroit action of beak and claw,after the manner of a Mockingbird. Later on, he will take to the tall ashopposite and sing, climbing upward as he increases in fervor until, when hereaches the very top, with head thrown back and swelling throat, his ecstasyfloats into the sky itself. Often elusive as the Thrasher is, his favorite nesting-haunt is within thirty feet of the back porch, where I have left unpruned for Birds and Seasons in My Garden 73 years a mass of the bridal wreath spirea, so that its upright shoots from creep-ing rootstocks have formed a stockade about the original bushes, making acat-, dog-, and bird student-pvooi retreat which my Thrashers recognize. It iswhat Mr. Ellwanger calls the Hungarian Czardas of the Catbird that announ-ces his arrival. It mingles with my dreams before I am really awake, andcomes from the dapper, black-capped fellow w

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