Nature Near London
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Nature Near London, by Richard
Jefferies This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and
with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away
or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Nature Near London
Author: Richard Jefferies
Release Date: June 19, 2006 [EBook #18629]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NATURE
NEAR LONDON ***
Produced by Malcolm Farmer and the Online Distributed Proofreading
Team at http://www.pgdp.net
NATURE NEAR LONDON
BY
RICHARD JEFFERIES
AUTHOR OF "THE LIFE OF THE FIELDS," "THE OPEN AIR,"
ETC.
[Illustration]
FINE-PAPER EDITION
LONDON
CHATTO & WINDUS 1905
Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO. At the Ballantyne Press
PREFACE
It is usually supposed to be necessary to go far into the country to find
wild birds and animals in sufficient numbers to be pleasantly studied.
Such was certainly my own impression till circumstances led me, for
the convenience of access to London, to reside for awhile about twelve
miles from town. There my preconceived views on the subject were
quite overthrown by the presence of as much bird-life as I had been
accustomed to in distant fields and woods.
First, as the spring began, came crowds of chiffchaffs and
willow-wrens, filling the furze with ceaseless flutterings. Presently a
nightingale sang in a hawthorn bush only just on the other side of the
road. One morning, on looking out of window, there was a hen
pheasant in the furze almost underneath. Rabbits often came out into
the spaces of sward between the bushes.
The furze itself became a broad surface of gold, beautiful to look down
upon, with islands of tenderest birch green interspersed, and willows in
which the sedge-reedling chattered. They used to say in the country that
cuckoos were getting scarce, but here the notes of the cuckoo echoed
all day long, and the birds often flew over the house. Doves cooed,
blackbirds whistled, thrushes sang, jays called, wood-pigeons uttered
the old familiar notes in the little copse hard by. Even a heron went
over now and then, and in the evening from the window I could hear
partridges calling each other to roost.
Along the roads and lanes the quantity and variety of life in the hedges
was really astonishing. Magpies, jays, woodpeckers--both green and
pied--kestrels hovering overhead, sparrow-hawks darting over
gateways, hares by the clover, weasels on the mounds, stoats at the
edge of the corn. I missed but two birds, the corncrake and the
grasshopper lark, and found these another season. Two squirrels one
day ran along the palings and up into a guelder-rose tree in the garden.
As for the finches and sparrows their number was past calculation.
There was material for many years' observation, and finding myself so
unexpectedly in the midst of these things, I was led to make the
following sketches, which were published in The Standard, and are
now reprinted by permission.
The question may be asked: Why have you not indicated in every case
the precise locality where you were so pleased? Why not mention the
exact hedge, the particular meadow? Because no two persons look at
the same thing with the same eyes. To me this spot may be attractive, to
you another; a third thinks yonder gnarled oak the most artistic. Nor
could I guarantee that every one should see the same things under the
same conditions of season, time, or weather. How could I arrange for
you next autumn to see the sprays of the horse-chestnut, scarlet from
frost, reflected in the dark water of the brook? There might not be any
frost till all the leaves had dropped. How could I contrive that the
cuckoos should circle round the copse, the sunlight glint upon the
stream, the warm sweet wind come breathing over the young corn just
when I should wish you to feel it? Every one must find their own
locality. I find a favourite wild-flower here, and the spot is dear to me;
you find yours yonder. Neither painter nor writer can show the
spectator their originals. It would be very easy, too, to pass any of these
places and see nothing, or but little. Birds are wayward, wild creatures
uncertain. The tree crowded with wood-pigeons one minute is empty
the next. To traverse the paths day by day, and week by week; to keep
an eye ever on the fields from year's end to year's end, is the one only
method of knowing what really is in or comes to them. That the sitting
gambler sweeps the board is true of these matters. The richest locality
may be apparently devoid of interest
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.