In the autumn of 1899 I came to live at Icklingham in Suffolk, and remained there, with occasional intervals of absence, for the next three years. During the greater part of that period I kept a day-to-day journal of field observation and reflection, and the following pages represent, for the most part, a portion of this. They are the work of one who professes nothing except to have used his eyes and ears to the best of his ability, and to give only, both in regard to fact and theory, the result of this method—combined, of course, in the latter case, with such illustrations and fortifications as his reading may have allowed him to make use of, and without taking into account some passing reference or allusion. That my notes relate almost entirely to birds, is not because I am less interested in other animals, but because, with the exception of rabbits, there are, practically, no wild quadrupeds in England. I am quite aware that a list can be made out, but let any one sit for a morning or afternoon in a wood, field, marsh, swamp, or pond, and he will then understand what I mean. In fact, to be a field naturalist in England, is to be a field ornithologist, and more often than not—I speak from experience—a waster of one’s time altogether. Unless you are prepared to be always unnaturally interested in the commonest matters, and not ashamed to pass as a genius by a never-ending barren allusion to them, be assured that you will often feel immensely dissatisfied with the way in which you have spent your day. Many a weary wandering, many an hour’s waiting and waiting to see, and seeing nothing, will be yours if you aim at more than this—and to read a book is fatal. But there is the per contra, and what that is I know very well. Of a few such per contras—they were to me, and I can only hope that some may be so to the reader—these “Bird Life Glimpses” are made up.
EDMUND SELOUS.
Cheltenham, May 1905.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Pheasant Roosting
BIRD LIFE GLIMPSES
CHAPTER I
Icklingham, in and about which most of the observations contained in the following pages have been made, is a little village of West Suffolk, situated on the northern bank of the river Lark. It lies between Mildenhall and Bury St. Edmunds, amidst country which is very open, and so sandy and barren that in the last geological survey it is described as having more the character of an Arabian desert than an ordinary English landscape. There are, indeed, wide stretches where the sand has so encroached upon the scanty vegetation of moss and lichen that no one put suddenly down amongst them would think he were in England, if it happened to be a fine sunny day. These arid wastes form vast warrens for rabbits always, whilst over them, from April to October, roam bands of the great plover or stone-curlew, whose wailing, melancholy cries are in artistic unison with their drear desolation. The country is very flat: no hill can be seen anywhere around, but the ground rises somewhat, from the river on the northern side, and this and a few minor undulations of the sand look almost like hills, against the general dead level. I have seen the same effect on the great bank of the Chesil, and read of it, I think, in the desert of Sahara. These steppes on the one side of the river pass, on the other, into a fine sweep of moorland, the lonely road through which is bordered, on one side only, by a single row of gaunt Scotch firs. Westwards, towards Cambridgeshire, the sand-country, as it may be termed, passes, gradually, into the fenlands, which, in a modified, or, rather, transitional form, lie on either side the Lark, as far as Icklingham itself.