July Second
"Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will." From dusk until daylight you hear its mournful song. The whip-poor-will spends the day in the forest. At twilight it comes forth to catch its insect prey, which it captures while flying. It makes hardly any pretence at building a nest, but lays its eggs upon the ground among the leaves, and so closely do both bird and eggs resemble their surroundings, that one might easily step on them unknowingly.