18 mayed at my ignorance, but too shy to seek other adult help. It was silly to let this go on, so we worked our way nearer to the Leader and the next time he stopped with finger raised and head cocked to say "Do you hear the chaffinch?" instead of looking away or pretending I could, I swallowed foolish pride and whispered "which song is it we're listening for?" To our delight, he was not at all dismayed by our lack of knowledge, and obliged with a demonstration whistle. From then on he always made sure that we knew what was going on and by the end of the afternoon we were excited to find that we were beginning to distinguish one "Cheep, cheep" from another "Cheep, cheep". Lie could not yet put the right bird to the right •Cheep" but at least when we listened we were hearing many different bird calls and not just a mass of song. The highlight of that afternoon for me was when someone drew my attention to a particular tree. "What?" I whispered. "Look at the trunk!" they whispered back. I stared at the bare trunk trying to see how its bark might be interesting. Quite suddenly, a long thin bird ran casually up it. My boys and I stared in amazement at our first tree-creeper. Hauing now revealed our abysmal ignorance to the learned company, instead of being subjected to the scorn we had anticipated, we found ourselves taken under the wings of the varous experts (for they were not all ornithologists we found), all eager to share their knowledge with us, so that we could appreciate with them the miracles of the world about us. There was, for instance, a botanist, who was as happy sharpening our observation by revealing hitherto unnoticed (by us) details about buttercups and daisies, as he was discovering rare botanical beauties. He was wearing a green anorak and had his trouser tucked into great thick socks, which tucked into great thick boots and he strode through the undergrowth like it was Epping High Street! At one time he was discussing with us the interesting length of the spikes of some bugle my boys had pointed out, when he stopped in his tracks and pointed to a minute patch of blue away in the distance. "Just look at the spurs on those violets!" Now, I do know a violet when I see one, but their spurs are something which have somehow passed me by.