Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1889-06-02
VOICES OF THE BIRDS.
The Open Air Concerts Which Delight
Our Rural Erienhs.

Our Rural Friends.
1t has been said that there are not many
song birds in California, and while this
may be true it is surely most pleasant to
listen to the many different bird voices
from all around-from among the trees, in
the air and even on the ground / was
led into this train of thought by hearing
this morning the loud, clear whistle of a
wild bird, stranger in this vicinity, visit.
| ing US but seldom. He is very shy and
his loud, clear notes are always to be
heard coming from the tops of the highest
trees. | do not know whether he comes
from the foothills or from the river. Be
| that as 1t may he whistles most beautifully
| and fastened out to see if | could obtain
a glimpse of him, but, as usual he was
not he seen. While standing on the porch
| waiting to hear him again | could not help
hearing the bird voices coming from the
trees near by, where many little family
is being reared just now. The most fssmil-
lar Of them all is the eyer-busy linnet.
From early dawn to dewy eve his voice is
heard above all others warbling his merry
song. All day long he fits from branch
to branch and froE! tree to tree. Now he
is helping in nest-building, now relieving
his mate of her watch over the little speck-
led treasures in the tiny house. Again he
Is raiding the strawberry beds and cherry
| trees. Little pilferer though he is, we
would miss his merry song and bright
| sociable ways.
There are still other voices coming from
among the leaves. The wild canaries, of
which there are many Species have their
summer homes in the trees near bv. Some
| utter a few sweet little notes, while others
give but little chirp like a humming-
bird and are but trife larger. A soft
little whirr of wings causes me to turn,
and there is little ruby-throat himself,
balancing for plunge into the heart of a
trumpet creeper, where in the next in
slant he is almost hidden from view. The
oriole, though not singing bird, whistles
few notes that are pleasant to hear, and
IN his bright orange and black plumage, is
the Z" Beau Brummel" of the plains.
Neither is the bee martin, or king bird, as
the children call him, gifted with a musical
voice; but he is noisy little fellow, and
an inveterate scold, as any one who goes
near the trees where they are nesting can
testify. But if they are not as musical
as some others, they act as protectors for
the more timid members of the bird family
who may happen to nest in the same tree
with them, for it is a brave cat that will
venture near a king birds nest, Even
hawks and butcher birds keep a respectful
distance.
We have one other sweet little songster
with notes not unlike the domestic canary;
a demure, understanding little bird in
Quaker dress of white and gray And It's
not unusual for this little Quaker bird to
sing at night, the little voice sounding so
soft and sweet in the stiffness. From the
furthest corner of the orchard is heard the
cooling of a dove, and from across the
fields of waving grain the whistle of the
meadow lark, as he wings his way upward
to greet the morning sun. Now and then
during the early morning hours the call of
the quail is heard while from high over
head the twitter of the swallows, as they
wheel and circle in mid-air in search of
their food, which they mostly find while
on the wing.
Last, but not least, are the hooking
birds, new arrivals also; as it is only within
the last seven or eight years that they
have been seen on the plains. He is an
early bird, being the very first 10 welcome
the coming morn, but makes sweetest
music about sunset, atfording amusement
to all who hear him, by his power as a
mimic, initiating as he does to perfection
the notes of all other birds. The ahistle
of the lark, the quail and blackbird; the
songs of the linnet and wren; the twitter
of the swallows, all these and more are in
cluded in his repertoire, and when heard
at the witching hour of midnight, when
the moon is shedding her radiance over
earth and sky, and as / heard him few
nights ago from the depths of an orange
tree, was enough to ravlsh the senses. In
the morning, before sunrise, the bird
voices all join in one grand chorus of
whistle and song to greet the king of day.
The rural people have morning open-air
concert that is worth rising at half past
four to hear. These, with the chirp. chirp
of the little nestlings from every tree and
vine, are the voices of the birds to be
heard any summer morning in the country.
And right pleasant sounds they are, tell
ing as they do, Of the contented and busy
life of the little world in the tree tops.
Lake House, May 25th Z. p. D.