Evening star., 1932-03-25
The birds think 1t is Spring. ANYWAY

The birds think 1t is Spring, ANYWAY
They have been chirping away at a
lively rate for the past two or three
days.
This sudden increase in bird music
is welcome to human ears which have
been listening in vain for the first
sounds OF the season.
The eyes have been fooled so many
times
The forsythias manned after a GER
tain Maj Forsythe) attempted to bloom
twice In our yard, but failed both
times being nipped in the bud once by
frcst and the second time by a blizzard
After the early March bareback the
blossoms were brown and withered
Surely those branches will bloom nc
more this season. They will be
watched, however, to see II nature will
not perform one of her everyday mir
acles, after all.
No one can ever be sure about ma
ture, especially in such season as the
present.
Last Sunday afternoon, the first really
, fine day for two weeks, the birds started
to sing again out our way.
BY sing we mean sing.
They were in trees, calling from tree
, to tree sending their chirps and their
SQueakS backward and forward.
Yes, birds often squeak.
There has been a great deal OF
hocum written about these interesting
creatures. To read some of the books
upon birds. one might think they never
made noises which properly might be
termed squeaks, groans, CRATES, grunts,
and the like.
The truth is that the bird noises are
not all music.
Even the most melodious of the song
sters have an amazing range of harsh
sounds.
The universally used word "cheep" is
too kind.
1t is true enough that many Of these
harsh sounds are alarm notes, protec-
tive devices, as it were, to call the at
tention of other birds to something
inimical which the singer sees, hears
or detects by other means.
This does not explain away their
other harsh cries by any means. 1t
would look as If the birds were true
artists, understanding the value OF dis
cords with the best of our "modernist"
composers.
Between their soft warblings they
Kisses and gratings, even clackings, so
that when their song finally wells out
it will stand forth in contrast with
them and seem all the more beautiful
on account of them.
This is art among birds or human
beings.
What else is the grand tenor doing
when he swings to his final high note
and hangs there until the audience
wishes he would let go?
The great burst of applause which
greets his safe descent to earth shows
plainly enough that the audience Is
heartily glad that the effort, awe-in-
spring though it was, is ended.
Gardener listeners feel much the
same way about bird songs although
the misery Is not so prolonged.
Birds are cautious little devils. They
have to be. There are no optimists
among them.
They do not adopt the old gamblers
saying, II hope for the best cards and
expect the worst"
Birds watch out for the worst all the
time. BY doing so they ordinarily see
it. and. seeing it, are usually able to
fly away from it.
Pretty clever. eh?
Yet when human beings act that way
they are called pesSimistS. Ho, hum!
Birds multiply their dangers tremen-
douSly when they come to the earth to
feed, as most Of them do, of course.
On the ground there are creeping
things innumerable, ready to leap upon
them In the queer economy of this
strange thing We call nature.