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the beach。 Let us not look at ourselves but onwards； and take
strength from the leaf and the signs of the field。 He is indeed
despicable who cannot look onwards to the ideal life of man。 Not
to do so is to deny our birthright of mind。
The long grass flowing towards the hedge has reared in a wave
against it。 Along the hedge it is higher and greener； and rustles
into the very bushes。 There is a mark only now where the footpath
was； it passed close to the hedge； but its place is traceable only
as a groove in the sorrel and seed…tops。 Though it has quite
filled the path； the grass there cannot send its tops so high； it
has left a winding crease。 By the hedge here stands a moss…grown
willow； and its slender branches extend over the sward。 Beyond it
is an oak； just apart from the bushes； then the ground gently
rises； and an ancient pollard ash； hollow and black inside； guards
an open gateway like a low tower。 The different tone of green
shows that the hedge is there of nut…trees； but one great hawthorn
spreads out in a semicircle； roofing the grass which is yet more
verdant in the still pool （as it were） under it。 Next a corner；
more oaks； and a chestnut in bloom。 Returning to this spot an old
apple tree stands right out in the meadow like an island。 There
seemed just now the tiniest twinkle of movement by the rushes； but
it was lost among the hedge parsley。 Among the grey leaves of the
willow there is another flit of motion； and visible now against the
sky there is a little brown bird； not to be distinguished at the
moment from the many other little brown birds that are known to be
about。 He got up into the willow from the hedge parsley somehow；
without being seen to climb or fly。 Suddenly he crosses to the
tops of the hawthorn and immediately flings himself up into the air
a yard or two； his wings and ruffled crest making a ragged outline；
jerk； jerk； jerk； as if it were with the utmost difficulty he could
keep even at that height。 He scolds； and twitters； and chirps； and
all at once sinks like a stone into the hedge and out of sight as a
stone into a pond。 It is a whitethroat； his nest is deep in the
parsley and nettles。 Presently he will go out to the island apple
tree and back again in a minute or two； the pair of them are so
fond of each other's affectionate company； they cannot remain
apart。
Watching the line of the hedge； about every two minutes； either
near at hand or yonder a bird darts out just at the level of the
grass； hovers a second with labouring wings； and returns as swiftly
to the cover。 Sometimes it is a flycatcher； sometimes a
greenfinch； or chaffinch； now and then a robin； in one place a
shrike； perhaps another is a red…start。 They are flyfishing all of
them； seizing insects from the sorrel tips and grass； as the
kingfisher takes a roach from the water。 A blackbird slips up into
the oak and a dove descends in the corner by the chestnut tree。
But these are not visible together； only one at a time and with
intervals。 The larger part of the life of the hedge is out of
sight。 All the thrush…fledglings； the young blackbirds； and
finches are hidden； most of them on the mound among the ivy； and
parsley； and rough grasses； protected； too； by a roof of brambles。
The nests that still have eggs are not； like the nests of the early
days of April； easily found； they are deep down in the tangled
herbage by the shore of the ditch； or far inside the thorny
thickets which then looked mere bushes； and are now so broad。
Landrails are running in the grass concealed as a man would be in a
wood； they have nests and eggs on the ground for which you may
search in vain till the mowers come。
Up in the corner a fragment of white fur and marks of scratching
show where a doe has been preparing for a litter。 Some well…
trodden runs lead from mound to mound； they are sandy near the
hedge where the particles have been carried out adhering to the
rabbits' feet and fur。 A crow rises lazily from the upper end of
the field； and perches in the chestnut。 His presence； too； was
unsuspected。 He is there by far too frequently。 At this season
the crows are always in the mowing…grass； searching about； stalking
in winding tracks from furrow to furrow； picking up an egg here and
a foolish fledgling that has wandered from the mound yonder。 Very
likely there may be a moorhen or two slipping about under cover of
the long grass； thus hidden； they can leave the shelter of the
flags and wander a distance from the brook。 So that beneath the
surface of the grass and under the screen of the leaves there are
ten times more birds than are seen。
Besides the singing and calling； there is a peculiar sound which is
only heard in summer。 Waiting quietly to discover what birds are
about； I become aware of a sound in the very air。 It is not the
midsummer hum which will soon be heard over the heated hay in the
valley and over the cooler hills alike。 It is not enough to be
called a hum； and does but just tremble at the extreme edge of
hearing。 If the branches wave and rustle they overbear it； the
buzz of a passing bee is so much louder； it overcomes all of it
that is in the whole field。 I cannot define it； except by calling
the hours of winter to mind … they are silent； you hear a branch
crack or creak as it rubs another in the wood； you hear the hoar
frost crunch on the grass beneath your feet； but the air is without
sound in itself。 The sound of summer is everywhere … in the
passing breeze； in the hedge； in the broad…branching trees； in the
grass as it swings； all the myriad particles that together make the
summer are in motion。 The sap moves in the trees； the pollen is
pushed out from grass and flower； and yet again these acres and
acres of leaves and square miles of grass blades … for they would
cover acres and square miles if reckoned edge to edge … are drawing
their strength from the atmosphere。 Exceedingly minute as these
vibrations must be； their numbers perhaps may give them a volume
almost reaching in the aggregate to the power of the ear。 Besides
the quivering leaf； the swinging grass； the fluttering bird's wing；
and the thousand oval membranes which innumerable insects whirl
about； a faint resonance seems to come from the very earth itself。
The fervour of the sunbeams descending in a tidal flood rings on
the strung harp of earth。 It is this exquisite undertone； heard
and yet unheard； which brings the mind into sweet accordance with
the wonderful instrument of nature。
By the apple tree there is a low bank； where the grass is less tall
and admits the heat direct to the ground； here there are blue
flowers … bluer than the wings of my favourite butterflies … with
white centres … the lovely bird's…eyes； or veronica。 The violet
and cowslip； bluebell and rose； are known to thousands； the
veronic