brown pasture-field, frosty in places, past a few tiny pools, that were very clear and bright, until I came to the hedge, dividing the pasture-field from the one beyond.  All the time the Tseer-up -tseer-eeee-----Tseer-up -- Tseer-eee” sounded in my ears. I went thru a break in the hedge.  Almost immediately the singer flew out from a tree further along the hedge to some tall solitary trees in a distant field where he alighted, sending back to me a fleeting “Tseerup – Tseer-eeee”, more baffling and delightful than before. Another one to the east began to answer him, and then another to the south, all of them seeming to come from the air. They filled me with a wild desire to rush on thru the woods and stay all day, and enjoy – Spring! When I hear their song, visions of long marshland brown and grey, bright pools and streams, dead fields and foggy air with warm sunshine arise within me - it is the remembrance of March days spent in rambling over country-sides and woodlands, before other life has appeared; one never hears them in town or in late spring, but always in the country and at this time when they are most delightful.
     As I stood in the center of this frosty field striving to get a glympse at a meadow-lark, I just realized how many