Those trees and shrubs which retain their withered leaves through the winter serve as a shelter to rabbits and partridges and other winter quadrupeds and birds. Even the little chickadees love to skulk amid them and peep out from behind them.
I hear their faint, silvery, lisping notes, like tinkling glass, and occasionally a sprightly day-day-day, as they inquisitively hop nearer and nearer to me. They are our most honest and innocent little bird, drawing yet nearer to us as the winter advances, and deserve best of any of the walker.
H. D. Thoreau, Journal, December 1, 1853
Our most honest and innocent little bird, drawing yet nearer to us as the winter advances. See October 2, 1857 (“The chickadees of late have winter ways, flocking after you.”); October 15, 1856 ("The chickadees are hopping near on the hemlock above. They resume their winter ways before the winter comes. “)
The chickadee
Hops near to me.
November 9, 1850 ("The chickadees, if I stand long enough, hop nearer and nearer inquisitively, from pine bough to pine bough, till within four or five feet, occasionally lisping a note.”); December 3, 1856 ("Six weeks ago I noticed the advent of chickadees and their winter habits. As you walk along a wood-side, a restless little flock of them, whose notes you hear at a distance, will seem to say, "Oh, there he goes! Let's pay our respects to him." And they will flit after and close to you, and naively peck at the nearest twig to you, as if they were minding their own business all the while without any reference to you.”)
See also Henry Thoreau, A Book of the Seasons: the Chickadee in Winter.
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