University Missourian. [volume] (Columbia, Mo.) 1908-1916, 1908-10-09
LOVE FOR BIRDS

characterlstlcS.-m their na''ie''
their songs. their flight. their color,
but their tints on the whole are rather
sober. The one bit of genuinely brilliant
color i'm the bird world of our climate
is the tanager. You see tanaSer sitting
on a little hemlock, and against such Il
background the color holds and delights
the eye wonderfully. The flight OF the
birds always attracts me: for each spe-
cieS has its own way of moving. How
peculiarly expressive lark's flight Is.
seen against the sky! The Tapping and
sailing of the hawks are unlike the move
ments of any other birds. | could recos
nizc many of the bird, by their flight. il
saw nothing else.
1t is. however. in their relation to the
seasons and to the past that the birds
appeal to me most. People change and
place, change: but the birds are seem
in.ly the identical ones | have always
known. endowed with immortal youth.
When one OF these friends of my bOyhOod
reappcars in the spring. | say, Hello.
old fellow, so you're not dead yet! and
feel myself transported instantly back
to my fathers farm in the Cat,kill>.
Then too the notes of the first returning
robin or song sparrow that | hear are
like opcnin. Il door right into spring.
and nothin" else opens the door Of the
season 81 effectively. The call of the
robin ut >un-et.-it> "Ha -ha laughter
call it.-no sound delights me more.
II is the most welcome sound hear dur
in. the whole year. How it kindles and
wakes one up. With me it recalls asso-
citations connected with the old home:
particularly with the sugar grove where
| heard that same call Us boy
Nearly everything in Nature refers
one back, >tir> some emotion connected
with the past: and that past always has
IA halo, glory which didn't appear at
the time. For the moment vGu are
youn" again. and the experience is very
delightful. even though it Is pathetic.
One of the sounds | heard in nv youth
wa- the bleatin" of the sheep in the twi-
light on the hills. and | like tn hear it
now oh. il is ineNprcS>ibly sweet and
awakrn- il youthful memory. when
hear the mellow bass of its wings on
the first warm days of April. 1t is the
female going zigzag here and there.
searching for a place to make her nest.
In the same way it is Il joy To see our
first butterfly. the mourning cloak,
dancing through the open. leafess woods
All through the year there are similar
sights and sounds that accent the
changes. For instance. there is the note
Of the first harvest fly. the cicada. That
begins new chapter. 1t means the rip
rning season. and that the long, tranquil.
languid days of midsummer have come.
| am specially interested at that season
in the big winged grasshoppcrS You
know the >hufing sound they make. and
how they hover in the air like hawk.
pause to look ut them now Just as !
used TO when ! was il boy. In those
days | would sometimes catch one bv
civin. it knock with my hat and then
it. There wa> quite triumph
in effecting Il capture. because they were
winged and 50 much like Il bird Now
and then | would secure lot of them
BY re>orting in the early morning to Il
place ! knew where they roasted on ii
slaty rock. This rock waS warmed by
the sun during the day. and they sought
it for its heat. which was long retained:
Dut by mOrnin. the heat was gone. and
hey were a little stiff with the cold and
,asily captured.
Another token of the ripening sea
son Is the insects one hears i'm the air
III an August day.-a soft. melOdious
lum from an invisible source 1t is the
Money bees and flies and similar creatures
,oin@ to and fro. They have bred num-
,roISly. and the sound of their wing, |
orms background above You as exten-
i've As the sky itself You can hear it |
anywhere in the fields or on il hill. and it |
S very sweet to me: for | heard it i'm my |
iOuth. and it takes NE back to what |
seems sort of lost paradise in my own
eeling.-John Burroughs