Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 19, 2025
To be sure Chateaubriand was at to mount the high horse, and this may have been but an afterthought of the grand seigneur, but certainly one would not make much headway on horseback toward the druid fastnesses of the primaeval pine. In his book of travels, New America. The bobolinks build in considerable numbers in a meadow within a quarter of a mile of us.
There were wrens in the knot holes, chippies in the fences, thrushes in the brush heaps, bluebirds in the hollow apple trees, cardinals in the bushes, tanagers in the saplings, fly-catchers in the trees, larks in the wheat, bobolinks in the clover, killdeers beside the creeks, swallows in the chimneys, and martins under the barn eaves. My love encompassed all feathered and furred creatures.
The trees are in heaviest foliage, insect life is at its height, and the shimmering air is filled with buzzing, dancing forms, and the clover is gay with the sheen of innumerable gauzy wings. The west wind comes to me laden with ecstatic voices. The bobolinks sail and tinkle in the sensuous hush, now sinking, now rising, their exquisite notes filling the air as with the sound of fairy bells.
The song of the bobolinks dropped from above, and the microphonic tune of the sparrows came up from the grass, sky and earth keeping holiday together. Almost I could have believed myself in Eden. But, alas, even the birds themselves were long since shut out of that garden of innocence, and as I started back toward the village a crow went hurrying past me, with a kingbird in hot pursuit.
And I'm sure that was the same bobolink! They don't have any bobolinks in Germany, and so that one was the first I have heard in three years. You heard him, didn't you, Arthur?" "I did at first," said Arthur. "And then you heard me, you wicked boy! You heard me come in here singing and talking to myself like a mad creature!
But it had its full share of feathered residents. Just beyond the last house, a wren, bubbling over with joy, always poured out his enchanting little song as I passed. Under the deep grass of the meadow dwelt bobolinks and meadow larks; from the pasture rose the silver threadlike song of the savanna sparrow and the martial note of the kingbird.
After carefully taking his bearings by certain small elm-trees, and searching diligently about for an inconspicuous dead twig he had planted as a guide-post, our leader confidently waded into the green depths, parted the stalks in a certain spot, and bade us look. We did. In a cosy cup, almost under our feet, were cuddled together three bird-babies. "Bobolinks?" we cried in a breath.
The evening after our humiliation which we lost sight of in our joy we returned to the charmed spot, parted again the sweet grass curtains and gazed down at the baby bobolinks, while the parents perched on two trees as before and paid not the smallest attention to us.
But the owner of the corn-crib was asleep, and dreaming, more than likely, that the cat, which was at that moment disturbing a pair of meadow bobolinks, was somehow wholly to be thanked for the scarcity of mice about the place. Solomon was not wasteful about his food. He swallowed his evening breakfast whole.
The purple haze over all gave to the scene an air of mystery. The stillness was intense. Only the chink of the bobolinks bound for the plains of the Orinoco or the chonk, chonking of ground squirrels broke the silence. This stillness must have been more awful than any noise of battle could possibly be.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking