xt7jh98zct60_20 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/2015ms086.dao.xml Bevins, Martha 0.05 Cubic Feet 55 items archival material 2015ms086 English University of Kentucky The physical rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections Research Center.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Martha Bevins letters to Tom McCarthy Radio broadcasting. Agriculture -- Kentucky. Birds Women air pilots. 1957 April 24 text 1957 April 24 2016 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7jh98zct60/data/2015ms086/Box_ms_42/Folder_1/Item_20/1957_4_24_Bevins_Spring_went_that_away_p1.pdf 1957 April 24 1957 1957 April 24 section false xt7jh98zct60_20 xt7jh98zct60 Win ,.. ,, ._,k '
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. Morning View Kentucky
24 April 1957
Hello, Mr. McCarthy, ,
Spring went that-a-Way, I think. The elusive lady arrived and departed
all in a breath, too quickly for even the most ardent observer to
catch more than a fleeting echo of her hastening footsteps as she
passed.
A much-travelled friend once told me that, while our American autumn
is the best on earth, Europe does much better when it comes to
springtime, that the continental spring arrives with much delicacy and
gentleness and slow enchantment. Perhaps it is true.
Friday and Saturday and Sunday were wonderful days — for June. 0n
those three days spring stormed through the tree patch area with all the
soft sweetness of a Patton tank. Nature's gentle awakening, as extolled
,rvby poets, was a frenzied explosion. Buds swelled and unfurled and
things rushed up out of the ground with such rapidity that it was
like watching a Disney film.
¥hursday the redbuds were bare, obscure twigs. Sunday, in full bloom,
‘ ’hey lay splashed like spilled wine on the hillsides. In those three
5 ‘days the black oaks clad themselves in the million silken tassels of
5 their catkin bloom. Pear trees gleamed misty white in the moonlight,
; soattered their petals in clouds on the warm, wet air, and donned
{’ shmmer green, all within that name brief period of furious activity.
I I enjoy most the great terminal buds of the shagbark hickories. finder
ordinary circumstances they gradually grow to astounding proportions, 7
3 as perfectly tapered as though fashioned in a vast pencil Sharpener,
4' and clad in a glistening, deep ivory bract as delicate to the touch
as the finest silk velvet. In due time these bracts curl downward and
assume a rosy hue, while from their center arise the sage green infant
leaves. Ihis year the whole wpnderful process was crowded into those
‘ same three days. Hourly a difference could be seen in the huge buds.
The flowerbeds behaved as newer before. I am particularly fond of
daffodils and Jonquils, selegting them for a long procession of bloom
from the earliest through tޤ very latest. The early ones had Just
gone and the medium blooms fibre opening when the warmth touched them.
The result was fantastic. “verything bloomed. Species stood side by
_ side which are ordinarily neggr seen together. Thalia rubbed elbows
with.Aerolite. Kestervan and§.ellband and Actea and Golden Scepter
Stood in a confused Jumble.‘It was lovely to see, though they faded
' r”rapidly due to the high temperatures. : '
Birds arrived from the South faster than I could keep track of them.
Hardly had I welcomed a Wood Thrush when I heard the clear call of
a Baltimore oriole and found him, all black and gold, singing to
himself as he caught little bugs amid the black oak blooms. Catbirds
' suddenly whined in the maple saplings and from atop the oaks came
Brown Thrasher songs.

 ' ' ‘J a.
v _
7'9”
Brown thrashers are Wonderful birds. They fear nothing, attacking
invading cats or hawks or snakes with supreme confidence. Though, in
their singing, they repeat everything twice, they are more pleasant
than mockers since they don't interpose unpleasant squawkings between
their tunes. One Thrasher obviously ppent his winter vacation on the
Gulf. He sits around proudly shouting like a Sea Gull and doing an
excellent Job of it too. '
r Birds that continue NorthWard are pausing so breefly in their migration

that I must be very alert or I miss them entirely. The dazzling male
Rose Breasted Grosbeak tarried only for a bath, a bit of food, a few

‘ snatches of his lovely song, then was gone. Fortunately, the black
oak tassels attract innumerable insects, so that by Watching these
trees I am assured of at least a momentary glimpse of the travelers.
Like a flock of Jeweled butterflies, Redstarts worked their way
through the tree patch from one black oak to the next, while I followed
on the ground. The males glowed in their polished black and red.
In the deepening twilight of evening, the Whip-poor-will laments down
by the pond, while the pond itself emits a many-voiced din as frogs,
varying from tiny thimble—siZed fellows up to the giant patriarchs,
voice their welcome to springtime. From the tree patch, little green
or grey tree grogs sing in reply, though much in the minority. By
day the pond echoes to the unlovely Quowks of its permanent summer
residents -- the pair of Little Green Herons whose days are devoted to

; peaceful fishing in its shallows.
Very young squirrels creep from their nests and play amid the branches
when their mothers are absent, their sparse little tails all blown
about by the breeze.
Though the calendar beepeaks spring, only the smallness of newly
unfurled leaves and the barrenness of plowed fields on ridge and
slope belie the summer mood that is mellow across the land.
Sincerely,
_ {3}”r*“\~/”