There can be little difficulty in naming a bird so brilliantly and distinctly
marked as this green, gold, and black warbler, that lifts up a few pure,
sweet, tender notes, loud enough to attract attention when he visits the
garden. "See-see, see-saw," he sings, but there is a tone of anxiety betrayed
in the simple, sylvan strain that always seems as if the bird needed
reassuring, possibly due to the rising inflection, like an interrogative, of
the last notes.
However abundant about our homes during the migrations, this warbler, true to
the family instinct, retreats to the woods to nest -- not always so far away
as Canada, the nesting ground of most warblers, for in many Northern States
the bird is commonly found throughout the summer. Doubtless it prefers tall
evergreen trees for its mossy, grassy nest; but it is not always particular,
so that the tree be a tall one with a convenient fork in an upper branch.
Early in September increased numbers emerge from the woods, the plumage of the
male being less brilliant than when we saw it last, as if the family cares of
the summer had proved too taxing. For nearly a month longer they hunt
incessantly, with much flitting about the leaves and twigs at the ends of
branches in the shrubbery and evergreens, for the tiny insects that the
warblers must devour by the million during their all too brief visit.
Pages:
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265