The Telegraph-courier. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1888-1946, 1897-05-20
THE SHORE LARK.
Lover of Birds Calls 1t the Sl1y1ark of
America.

A Lover of Birds Calls 1t the Sky1ark Of
America.
We all have read in prose and
verse of the skylark of western Eu-
rope; how many of us know that
we have a skylark of our own?
In summer never see him. In
Massachusetts he is merely resi-
dent from October to April, and is
not a skylark at all, going to Labra-
dor to sing and breed. AS winter
visitor he is found as far south as
Washington In western New York
he comes in February, breeds in
early spring and goes in November,
breeding also in Minnesota. Wheth-
er he is found in all the region thue
outlined I do not know; very likel.
his range to the northwest is still
greater.
Should lose my calendar, I should
know by the appearance of the lark
that the date was Feb. Is; the mer-
curry may be at zero, but that is none
of his business. Other winter birds
AS the arctic sparrow and yellow
bird, the latter disguised as female
seek deep ravines, where, amid
thick brushwood and tall weeds,
they are protected from cold and
storm, but the shore lark betakes
himself to high, open fields, less
perhaps to enjoy the keen north
wind than to find earth from which
the gales have swept away the snow,
exposing the seeds he is after.
In June and earlier the shore lark
becomes a skylark. The old world
lark is said to climb a spiral stair
with his nest at it's foot; ours goes
drifting through the sky, keeping at
about the same height from the
ground, going up and coming down
a little, turning in all directions in
a may dance as he futters slowly
along, going mile perhaps before,
sailing down in a long slant, he
comes back to earth, but not back
to his nest, SO far as I know.
Even now his song does not cease
mounting a stone, he goes right on.
The English lark is lost to sight
sometimes, and ours is often hard to
see; you will listen and look some
little time before you get your eye
on him. Soon after midsummer he
ceases to sing.
He is nocturnal in winter; if you
wish to know whether he is to be
found in your fields, go out in a
calm snowstorm in the evening
when no sound is heard but the soft
crush of the snowfakes and listen.
A soft snowfall makes him as jubi-
liant as a gentle spring rain does a
flock of robins, and you will, if he is
present, soon hear his "Chee- che-ch-
ch-ch- ch-chee! !" the notes fairly tum-
bling over each other in the middle.
AS skylark he sings it constantly
over and over, but now he waits
long enough for a comrade to repeat
it.
The hermit thrush would not think
this melody at all, but if like the
general character of bird I like his
attempts to sing, and [ greatly like
and esteem the shore lark. And l
suspect that the old world lark owes
more to his domestic disposition and
the sum Of his qualities than to his
ability as a songster. Our lark
walks like a crow and is no more
likely to light in tree than is a
goose; a fence or a wall is the only
substitute for the earth or a stone.
His back is the tint of road dust, he
is white beneath, a large black cres-
cent, with it's horns pointing up
ward, is on his breast and smaller
one on each side of his head. The ear
coverts make a pair of sharp and
slender "horns, y not very conspicu-
Gus, however Wick Magazine.