out like a tiny green wax taper, and afterwards turns the other.
Sometimes it resumes the original turn before reaching a branch to cling
to, and may thus be said to have revolved in three directions. The dusty
celandine grows under the bushes; and its light green leaves seem to
retain the white dust from the road. Ground ivy creeps everywhere over
the banks, and covers the barest spot. In April its flowers, though much
concealed by leaves, dot the sides of the ditches with colour, like the
purple tint that lurks in the amethyst.

A small black patch marks the site of one of those gorse fires which are
so common in Surrey. This was extinguished before it could spread beyond
a few bushes. The crooked stems remain black as charcoal, too much burnt
to recover, and in the centre a young birch scorched by the flames
stands leafless. This barren birch, bare of foliage and apparently
unattractive, is the favourite resort of yellow-hammers. Perching on a
branch towards evening a yellow-hammer will often sit and sing by the
hour together, as if preferring to be clear of leafy sprays.

The somewhat dingy hue of many trees as the summer begins to wane is
caused not only by the fading of the green, but by the appearance of
spots upon the leaves, as may be seen on those birches which grow among
the furze. But in spring and early summer their fresh light green
contrasts with masses of bright yellow gorse bloom. Just before
then--just as the first leaves are opening--the chiffchaffs come.

The first spring I had any knowledge of this spot was mild, and had been
preceded by mild seasons. The chiffchaffs arrived all at once, as it
seemed, in a bevy, and took possession of every birch about the furze,
calling incessantly with might and main. The willow-wrens were nearly
as numerous. All the gorse seemed full of them for a few days. Then by