. Birds through the year . ylight, gazes at him in the hour ofdawn with the true look of the wild animal—half insolence and half sheer this hostility and indifference on the partof the familiar beasts and birds of an Englishvillage gives a curious jar to mans instinctivesense of his own predominance. We have onlyto get up three or four hours before breakfast tofind a world in which we are still of small account; and it ispositively comforting to human self-esteem to find a friendlywelcome from the old cart-horses in the pasture, pushingtheir hairy faces over the palings an
. Birds through the year . ylight, gazes at him in the hour ofdawn with the true look of the wild animal—half insolence and half sheer this hostility and indifference on the partof the familiar beasts and birds of an Englishvillage gives a curious jar to mans instinctivesense of his own predominance. We have onlyto get up three or four hours before breakfast tofind a world in which we are still of small account; and it ispositively comforting to human self-esteem to find a friendlywelcome from the old cart-horses in the pasture, pushingtheir hairy faces over the palings and expecting to be led offto work for their masters. At least we have tamed thehorse if we are flouted by the common jenny-wren. The first note of summer verging towards harvest-timeis heard in the stillness of the June night, when the greenhorse-chestnut or tassel of plane-seeds falls to earth with asingle sudden tap. Though the unripe seed falls with aminiature sound, there is the warning of all autumn in it. (1,922) 22. 170 SUMMER The nightingale soon breaks out singing again from histhicket, and the dawn has its jubilant cries; the impressionis quickly eclipsed, but returns with gradually increasingfrequency as the summer goes on. July dawns are mistierthan those of June, and far more still; instead of the chorusof all the birds, we hear little but the chirp of the sparrowspresaging heat, the faithful crooning of the ring-dove, or thedeep and rasping caws with which the rooks at this time ofmorning post from tree to tree on their way to their feeding-grounds. August dawns break later and mistier still ; andnow, in the weeks of deepest silence by day, the piercingwarble of the robin is lifted to the earliest stain of light. Itis his autumn song renewed ; the birds moulting time, whichforms the only real break in the circle of the English seasons,has intervened since he lifted his voice in the paean of themidsummer morning, and this song already tells that it ispassing.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, booksubjectbirdspi, bookyear1922
