“Shall I call thee Bird
Or but a wandering Voice?
· · · · · ·
Even yet thou art to me
No bird, but an invisible thing,
A voice, a mystery.”
It was several years after I had learned to love the sweet, tender song of the field sparrow that I had my first glimpse of the singer. He is a very real and delightful part of our April meadows, where he lives his serene life.
VESPER SPARROW