Gradually the noise subsided as the Herons settled on various branches. The mist above the pond began to disappear, and the small, shapeless clouds far up in the sky took on a suggestion of color. Now was the time to arise. In a very little while the woods would be filled with flying, feeding birds, and the best time of day for bird observation would be at hand. Yet so cold was I that it was impossible to move a limb. Several times, off to one side, a faint-voiced little White-throated Sparrow gave a feeble imitation of his beautiful spring-and-summer song. It was as though his vocal organs had become less pliant through disuse and exposure to the cold.
What a brave little singer he is, even though his efforts are not always equally repaid. I think it is partially what Hudson would call the “human note” that so endears the White-throat’s song to me. There is truly an intimate quality in the first sustained note of his song. But in the final, high and infinitely sweet tones there is a suggestion of a song that is too pure to be voiced by anything that is bound to the earth. Many have been the hot summer days when, tired and pack-weary, I have paused for a moment to rest at some bramble-covered clearing in the deep woods, and that cheery little forest voice of the Peabody bird, coming unexpectedly from some unseen branch, would refresh me as much as a drink at some cool spring. I look forward to his singing from one year to the next.
A massive white oak spread its powerful branches at least one hundred feet above my head. It was a majestic and beautiful living monument to a mighty nature. Some of the topmost limbs seemed to reach up and disappear in the sky, so perfectly did their pale gray bark blend with the early morning light. For some time I listened to the soft rustling of the wind among its myriad drying leaves. Then very subtly from the tree top there came a different sound, which impressed itself upon my consciousness as would the faint perfume of a distant flower bed slowly approached. Gradually it increased until the leafy whispering became almost inaudible, and the air was filled with an indescribable, high-pitched musical breathing. It was as though countless tiny creatures were conversing a great way off.