THE DECEMBER SPRING
[To the Editor of TIIE SPECTATOR.]
SIR,—Your " Country Life " paragraph of December 14th, on a " December Spring " is very much to the point. Here in Bucks we are hearing thrushes singing from the top of every tree. The robin refuses to render his winter song : he behaves as if it were summer, ignores the bread on the window-sill and prefers to find his own food. A blackbird wakes the birds each morning at dawn as if it were 4 a.m. in summer. The greedy starlings will not look at their meat and fat, but run about the lawn stuffing themselves. Violets and primroses are out in our little wood ; daffodil buds in the garden are ready to burst on Christmas morning. "General McArthur" supplies a morning button-hole for my husband. Purple and yellow violas surround the rose beds as in June.
We put a horse's leg yesterday on top of an elm tree, so perhaps I may be able to report presently on an incipient rookery.—Yours truly, Fairfield, Burnham, Bucks. GWLADYS MCKENNA.
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