"See? See? See? The herald of spring you see!
What matters if winds blow piercingly!
The brook, long ice-bound, struggles through
Its glistening fetters, and murmurs anew
With joy at the freedom the days will bring
When the snow has gone! And I, too, sing!
"See? See? See? A flush of color you see!
The tassels are hung on the budding tree,
Before it has drawn its curtain of leaves
To shade the homes of the birds. Now weaves
The silent spring a carpet fair,
With wind-flower and hepatica there.
"See? See? See? You are glad to welcome me.
You will hear my voice ring cheerfully
Through Summer's heat or days of rain
Until the winter has come again.
From dawn till dusk, my heart is gay,
And I sing my happy life away.
See? See? See?"
THE FOX SPARROW
_Finch Family--Fringillidæ_
Length: A little over 7 inches; about an inch longer than the English
sparrow, and nearly as large as a hermit thrush.
Male and Female: Upper parts reddish-brown, _brightest_ on _lower back_
and _tail_. (The red-brown tail is a distinguishing mark of the fox
sparrow as it is of the hermit thrush.) Under parts grayish-white;
_throat_, _breast_, _belly_, and _sides_ _heavily_ and _irregularly
streaked_ with reddish-brown and black, except the middle of the
belly, which is white.
Note: A faint _seep_ or _cheep_.
Song: The most beautiful of all the sparrows'--a burst of melody
possessing sweetness and power; joyous, yet with a minor strain.
Habitat: Tall thickets or clumps of weeds.
Range: North America. Breeds in the forest-regions of Canada and Alaska;
winters from the lower Ohio and Potomac Valleys to central Texas and
northern Florida.
Never shall I forget the thrill of surprise and ecstasy which my first
fox sparrow brought to me! My sister and I were on eager quest for early
migrants in open woods and overgrown pastures, when from a thicket of
tall shrubs there burst so marvelous a "concord of sweet sounds" that we
were spell-bound. No words can describe the tenderness, the joyous
abandon, yet withal the strain of sadness in the song, as though the
choristers had drunk deep of life, had visioned clearly its secrets, and
transmuted its experiences. When the music had become a soft cadence, we
sought the singers, and found a band of thrush like sparrows scratching
in the old brown leaves like bantam hens. They remained in the thicket
for several days, singing most rapturously toward sunset.
Though shy birds and seen infrequently, fox sparrows occasionally
approach houses. During a deep spring snow that covered the birds'
natural food-supply, several of these north-bound migrants came three
times a day with a flock of juncos to feed on bread-crumbs in our back
yard. Like Tommy Tucker, they "sang for their supper." Twice they
arrived before a fresh supply of crumbs had been scattered; their songs
announced their presence and were accompanied by the gentle trill of the
juncos. A large flock remained in Middlesex Fells for several days.
Most bird-lovers consider an experience with fox sparrows as out of the
ordinary. Thoreau wrote: "Is not the coming of the fox-colored sparrow
something more earnest and significant than I have dreamed of? These
migrating sparrows bear all messages that concern my life."[58]
[Illustration: PHOEBE]
THE PHOEBE
_Flycatcher Family--Tyrranidæ_
Length: About 7 inches; a little larger than the English sparrow.
Male and Female: Grayish-brown above; under parts light gray with
yellowish wash; breast darker than throat, sides grayish-brown; head
dark brown, somewhat crested; bill black, slightly hooked at tip,
with bristles at base; wings dark brown, _with inconspicuous whitish
wing-bars_; tail dark brown; edge of two outer tail-feathers
yellowish-white.
Song: No real song. Flycatchers are songless birds. The note is a hoarse
_Phoebe_, sometimes _Pe-wit-Phoebe_. It is usually uttered
mournfully and monotonously; occasionally the male gives numerous
_Phoebes_ rapidly while on the wing.
Habitat: Near streams preferably. A favorite nesting site is underneath
a bridge; eaves of barns or beams of piazzas are also used.
Range: Eastern North America. Breeds from north-central Canada south to
northeastern New Mexico, central Texas, northern Mississippi and
highlands of Georgia; winters south of latitude 37° to southern
Mexico.
When March has lost some of its bluster and gentler weather prevails,
there arrives from the land of sunshine and teeming insect life, a small
brown and gray bird--the Phoebe, first of the Flycatcher family to come
North. Like many of the early migrants, he travels without his beloved
little mate, whom he seems to miss sadly; for he sits disconsolately on
a bare twig and calls her name in hoarse, wheezy tones. After she
appears, it is pleasant to see their devotion, not only to each other,
but to the nesting site. How they journey apart the great distance from
South to North and find their own especial bridge or barn year after
year, is one of the great mysteries.
Their large, loosely-constructed nest is made of moss and mud, lined
with soft grass, hair, or feathers. It is usually infested with
bird-lice, as I discovered, to my dismay. It is well not to allow
phoebes to build where the lice may become a nuisance.
Like all the soberly-dressed flycatchers, phoebes seek conspicuous
perches such as posts or dead branches. They have the family habit of
ruffling up their head-feathers into a sort of crest, and of jerking
their tails frequently, especially when uttering their note. They make
unexpected sallies after insects, which their unusually keen eyes can
see from dawn until dark.
Phoebes are among our most useful birds, for they destroy injurious
beetles, weevils, flies that annoy cattle and horses, house flies, ants,
mosquitoes, wasps, spiders, grasshoppers, and numerous other harmful
insects.[59] Their soft brown and gray plumage blends with dull March
meadows, with the silver sheen of the brooks they love, and with silken
pussy-willows and brown willow-boughs.