Birds -- United States; Natural history -- Outdoor books
We were now close to the settlement, and began to hear human sounds.
One rod more, and we were out of the woods. It took us a moment to
comprehend the scene. Things looked very strange at first; but quickly
they began to change and to put on familiar features. Some magic
scene-shifting seemed to take place before my eyes, till, instead of
the unknown settlement which I at first seemed to look upon there
stood the farm-house at which we had stopped two days before, and at
the same moment we heard the stamping of our team in the barn. We sat
down and laughed heartily over our good luck. Our desperate venture
had resulted better than we had dared to hope, and had shamed our
wisest plans. At the house our arrival had been anticipated about this
time, and dinner was being put upon the table.
It was then five o'clock, so that we had been in the woods just
forty-eight hours; but if time is only phenomenal, as the philosophers
say, and life only in feeling, as the poets aver, we were some months,
if not years, older at that moment than we had been two days before.
Yet younger too,--though this be a paradox,--for the birches had
infused into us some of their own suppleness and strength.
[Illustration: Bluebird.]
THE BLUEBIRD.
When Nature made the bluebird she wished to propitiate both the sky
and the earth, so she gave him the color of the one on his back and
the hue of the other on his breast, and ordained that his appearance
in spring should denote that the strife and war between these two
elements was at an end. He is the peace-harbinger; in him the
celestial and terrestrial strike hands and are fast friends. He means
the furrow and he means the warmth; he means all the soft, wooing
influences of the spring on the one hand, and the retreating footsteps
of winter on the other.
It is sure to be a bright March morning when you first hear his note;
and it is as if the milder influences up above had found a voice and
let a word fall upon your ear, so tender is it and so prophetic, a
hope tinged with a regret.
"_Bermuda! Bermuda! Bermuda!_" he seems to say, as if both invoking
and lamenting, and behold! Bermuda follows close, though the little
pilgrim may be only repeating the tradition of his race, himself
having come only from Florida, the Carolinas, or even from Virginia,
where he has found his Bermuda on some broad sunny hill-side thickly
studded with cedars and persimmon trees.
In New York and in New England the sap starts up in the sugar-maple the
very day the bluebird arrives, and sugar-making begins forthwith. The
bird is generally a mere disembodied voice; a rumor in the air for two
or three days before it takes visible shape before you. The males are
the pioneers, and come several days in advance of the females. By the
time both are here and the pair have begun to prospect for a place to
nest, sugar-making is over, the last vestige of snow has disappeared,
and the plow is brightening its mould-board in the new furrow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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