BIRDS OF THE CITY.

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 235, 5 October 1927, Page 6

BIRDS OF THE CITY.

At sunrise the birds mount, singing over Auckland city and bring joy to every listening heart. The first carol in the dawning calls you wide awake. As the light spreads they sgar. melodiously aloft, and a cascade of sweetest melody comes rippling down from the skies. The birds are singing their matins to the morn. It is strange to think of larks in the heart of a great city, but Auckland possesses this charm. Those whose happy lot it is to live near the Auckland Domain each morning hear the larks carolling the songs of spring in the sky, and listen with delight to the golden melody, as Shelley did, for it is his skylark that soars so buoyantly aloft. The New Zealand lark sings on the ground. These little grey brethren spring aloft just as the sun breaks the horizon, and the sleeper is awakened by their burst of melody, which throbs and pulsates, gushing in trills of ecstasy, flooding the whole stirring earth with its joyous life. It is remarkable that these birds should be settled and nesting in such a busy thoroughfare as the parks of Auckland can become. This shows that these little brethren of ours have forgotten their fear of man and his hustling ways. Auckland is not alone in having birds in its midst. The pigeons of St. Mark's, in Venice, are well known. Perhaps the most delightful of all birds to become domesticated in a city are the doves of Sydney. These birds look, from a distance, to be the ringdove of the English wood. They abound every where. Hyde Park, on which busiest city streets impinge, is vocal with their cooing melody. Wherever the visitor walks in the city, if there is a tree near, and Sydiiey loves and protects its trees, the coo-cooing of their little throats fills the air with the murmur of peace. Wings of soft Quaker grey slant against the sunlight from every vantage, and the music of the birds becomes enwrapt with a memory of the place. The beauty of the harbour may fade from the mind, and the roar of the -city, which only dies down from two o'clock in the morning till four, becomes faint and far, but the cooing of the dove remains. Our New Zealand birds are passing awjfy. It is rare to hear the wonder of their notes. Only in places like Ohakune, where the . bush is preserved near the township, can this be enjoyed, and it can be hoped that their song will remain. Yet how wonderful it is. Once, when staying at the township, just as light was near, a sleeper awakened to such a burst of melody as never previously heard. It drew the watcher to a window, where the shape of the bush was still shrouded in darkness and the beautiful mountain was entirely hidden in darkness. The light was very faint, hardly visible, and the volume of sound immense. Every bird in the bush was singing with a rush and glory that cannot be put into mere words. The bird chorus rose higher and higher, filled with the rapturous joy of living, till the first streak of dawn shot across the bush. Then, as if a conductor had dropped his baton, silence fell. Dawn broke, and tho listener waited and waited, but no further sound broke the solemnity of the com in" day. Matins were*, over. The birds were silent. ° —E. S. JAY.