In one pretty Little Russian village there were so many gardens that the whole place seemed like one big garden. The trees were blooming and fragrant in the spring, and in the dense greenery of their branches many birds fluttered, filling the surrounding area with ringing songs and cheerful chirping; in the fall, many pink apples, yellow pears and blue-purple plums were already appearing between the leaves. But several evil boys gathered in a crowd and destroyed the birds' nests. The poor birds left the gardens and never returned to them. Autumn and winter have passed, a new spring has come; but in the gardens it was quiet and sad. The harmful caterpillars, which birds had previously exterminated by the thousands, now bred unhindered and devoured not only flowers but also leaves on the trees: and now the naked trees in the middle of summer looked sad, as if in winter. Autumn came, but there were no pink apples, yellow pears, or purple plums in the gardens; cheerful birds did not flutter on the branches; the village was not filled with their sonorous songs.
Cuckoo
The gray cuckoo is a homeless sloth: it doesn’t build nests, it lays its eggs in other people’s nests, it gives its cuckoo chicks to be raised, and it even makes fun of it and boasts to its hubby
- “Hee-hee-hee! Ha-ha-ha! Look, hubby, how I laid an egg to the delight of the oatmeal.”
And the tailed hubby is sitting on a birch tree, his tail unfurled, his wings lowered, his neck stretched out, swaying from side to side, calculating the years, counting out stupid people.
Martin
In the fall, the boy wanted to destroy the swallow’s nest stuck under the roof, in which the owners were no longer there: sensing the approach of cold weather, they flew away.
“Don’t ruin the nest,” the father said to the boy, “in the spring the swallow will fly again, and she will be pleased to find her old house.”
The boy obeyed his father.
Winter passed, and at the end of April a pair of sharp-winged, beautiful birds, cheerful and chirping, flew in and began to fly around the old nest.
Work was in full swing; The swallows carried clay and silt from a nearby stream in their noses, and soon the nest, which had deteriorated a little over the winter, was redecorated. Then the swallows began to carry either fluff, then a feather, or a stalk of moss into the nest.
A few more days passed, and the boy noticed that only one swallow was flying out of the nest, and the other remained in it constantly.
“Apparently, she put on the testicles and is now sitting on them,” the boy thought.
In fact, after three weeks, tiny heads began to peek out of the nest. How glad the boy was now that he had not ruined the nest!
Sitting on the porch, he spent hours watching how caring birds flew through the air and caught flies, mosquitoes and midges. How quickly they scurried back and forth, how tirelessly they obtained food for their children!
The boy marveled at how the swallows did not get tired of flying all day long, without sitting down for almost a single minute, and expressed his surprise to his father. The father took out a stuffed swallow and showed it to his son:
- Look how long, large wings and tail the swallow has in comparison with its small, light body and such tiny legs that it has almost nothing to sit on; that's why she can fly so fast and for a long time. If the swallow could speak, then she would tell you such wonders - about the southern Russian steppes, about the Crimean mountains covered with grapes, about the stormy Black Sea, which she had to fly through without sitting down even once, about Asia Minor, where everything was in bloom and it turned green when we already had snow, about the blue Mediterranean Sea, where she had to relax once or twice on the islands, about Africa, where she built her nest and caught midges when we had Epiphany* frosts.
* (Epiphany. Epiphany is an ancient winter holiday. Usually there were severe frosts at Epiphany.)
“I didn’t think swallows fly so far,” said the boy.
“And not only swallows,” the father continued, “larks, quails, blackbirds, cuckoos, wild ducks, geese and many other birds, which are called migratory, also fly away from us to warm countries for the winter. For some, the warmth that happens in winter in southern Germany and France is enough; for others, they need to fly over high snowy mountains to take refuge for the winter in the blooming lemon and orange groves of Italy and Greece; the third needs to fly even further, to fly across the entire Mediterranean Sea.
“Why don’t they stay in warm countries for a whole year,” the boy asked, “if it’s so good there?”
- Apparently they don’t have enough food for the children or maybe it’s too hot. But marvel at this: how do swallows, flying thousands of four miles, find their way to the very house where they have built their nest?
Eagle
The blue-winged eagle is the king of all birds. He builds nests on rocks and on old oak trees; flies high, sees far, does not blink at the sun.
The eagle has a sickle nose, hooked claws; the wings are long; bulging chest - well done.
An eagle flies through the clouds, looking for prey from above.
He will fly at a pintail duck, a red-footed goose, a deceiver cuckoo, only feathers will fall down.
Woodpecker
Knock-Knock! In a deep forest, a black woodpecker is carpentering on a pine tree.
It clings with its paws, rests its tail, taps its nose, and scares away ants and boogers from behind the bark; He will run around the trunk, not overlook anyone.
The ants got scared:
“These arrangements are not good!”
They squirm in fear, hide behind the bark, and don’t want to go out.
Knock-Knock! The black woodpecker knocks with its nose, gouges the bark, and launches its long tongue into holes: it creates goosebumps, as if dragging a fish.
Goose and crane
A goose swims on the pond and talks loudly to itself:
- What an amazing bird I really am! And I walk on the ground, and swim on the water, and fly through the air: there is no other bird like this in the world! I am the king of all birds!
The crane overheard the goose and said to him:
- You stupid bird, goose! Well, can you swim like a pike, run like a deer, or fly like an eagle? It’s better to know one thing, but it’s good, than everything, but it’s bad.
Goblin
The inhabitants of one secluded village were in great anxiety, especially the women and children. In their favorite nearby forest, where boys and girls were constantly snooping, now for berries, now for mushrooms, there was a goblin. As soon as night falls, laughter, whistling, meowing will go through the forest, and from time to time terrible screams are heard, as if someone is being strangled. When he starts screaming and laughing, his hair stands on end. Children, not only at night, but also during the day, were afraid to go to their favorite forest, where previously all they could hear was the singing of nightingales and the lingering cries of orioles. At the same time, young chickens, ducks and goslings began to disappear around the village more often than before.
One young peasant, Yegor, finally got tired of it.
“Wait, women,” he said, “I’ll bring you the devil alive.”
Yegor waited until evening, took a bag and a gun and went into the forest, despite the requests of his cowardly wife. He wandered in the forest all night, his wife did not sleep all night and listened in horror as the goblin laughed and howled until daylight.
Only in the morning did Yegor appear from the forest. He was carrying something large and living in a bag, one of Yegor’s hands was wrapped in a rag, and blood was visible on the rag. The whole village ran to the brave peasant’s yard and watched, not without fear, as he shook out of a bag some unprecedented bird, shaggy, with ears, with big red eyes. She clicks her crooked beak, moves her eyes, and tears at the ground with sharp claws; As soon as the crows, magpies and jackdaws saw the monster, they began to fly over it, raising a terrible cry and uproar.
Owl! - one old man shouted here. - After all, I told you, stupid ones, that this is all an owl playing pranks.
Tolstoy L.N.
Young sparrows were jumping on the path in the garden.
And the old sparrow sat high on a tree branch and vigilantly looked to see if a bird of prey would appear somewhere.
A robber hawk flies through the backyard. He is the fierce enemy of the small bird. The hawk flies quietly, without noise.
But the old sparrow noticed the villain and is watching him.
The hawk is getting closer and closer.
The sparrow chirped loudly and anxiously, and all the little sparrows disappeared into the bushes at once.
Everything fell silent.
Only the sentry sparrow sits on a branch. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t take his eyes off the hawk.
The hawk noticed the old sparrow, flapped its wings, straightened its claws and descended like an arrow.
And the sparrow fell like a stone into the bushes.
The hawk was left with nothing.
He looks around. Evil has taken the predator. His yellow eyes burn with fire.
Little sparrows poured out of the bushes noisily and jumped along the path.
Swans
Tolstoy L.N.
Swans flew in a herd from the cold side to warm lands. They flew across the sea. They flew day and night, and another day and another night, without resting, they flew over the water. Was in the sky full month, and the swans saw blue water far below them. All the swans were exhausted, flapping their wings; but they did not stop and flew on. Old, strong swans flew in front, and those who were younger and weaker flew behind. One young swan flew behind everyone. His strength weakened. He flapped his wings and could not fly any further. Then he, spreading his wings, went down. He descended closer and closer to the water; and his comrades further and further became whiter in the monthly light. The swan descended onto the water and folded its wings. The sea rose beneath him and rocked him.
A flock of swans was barely visible as a white line in the bright sky. And in the silence you could barely hear the sound of their wings ringing. When they were completely out of sight, the swan bent its neck back and closed its eyes. He did not move, and only the sea, rising and falling in a wide strip, raised and lowered him.
Before dawn, a light breeze began to sway the sea. And the water splashed into the white chest of the swan. The swan opened his eyes. The dawn reddened in the east, and the moon and stars became paler. The swan sighed, stretched out its neck and flapped its wings, rose up and flew, clinging to the water with its wings. He rose higher and higher and flew alone over the dark, rippling waves.
Starlings (Excerpt)
Kuprin A.I.
We were looking forward to seeing old friends fly into our garden again - starlings, these cute, cheerful, sociable birds, the first migratory guests, the joyful messengers of spring.
So, we waited for the starlings. We fixed old birdhouses that had become warped from the winter winds and hung new ones.
The sparrows imagined that this courtesy was being done for them, and immediately, at the first warmth, they occupied the birdhouses.
Finally, on the nineteenth, in the evening (it was still light), someone shouted: “Look - starlings!”
Indeed, they sat high on the branches of poplars and, after the sparrows, seemed unusually large and too black...
For two days the starlings seemed to be gaining strength and were hanging out and exploring last year’s familiar places. And then the eviction of sparrows began. I did not notice any particularly violent clashes between starlings and sparrows. Usually, skurts sit in twos high above the birdhouses and, apparently, carelessly chatter among themselves about something, while they themselves gaze intently downwards with one eye, sideways. It's scary and difficult for the sparrow. No, no - he sticks his sharp, cunning nose out of the round hole - and back. Finally, hunger, frivolity, and perhaps timidity make themselves felt. “I’m flying off,” he thinks, “for a minute and right back.” Maybe I'll outwit you. Maybe they won’t notice.” And as soon as it has time to fly away a fathom, the starling drops like a stone and is already at home.
And now the sparrow’s temporary economy has come to an end. Starlings guard the nest in turns: one sits while the other flies on business. Sparrows would never think of such a trick.
And so, out of chagrin, great battles begin between the sparrows, during which fluff and feathers fly into the air. And the starlings sit high in the trees and even tease: “Hey, you black-headed one! You won’t be able to overcome that yellow-chested one forever and ever.” - "How? To me? Yes, I’ll take him now!” - “Come on, come on...”
And there will be a landfill. However, in the spring all the animals and birds... fight much more...
Starling song
Kuprin A.I.
The air warmed up a little, and the starlings had already settled on high branches and began their concert. I don’t know, really, whether the starling has his own motives, but you will hear enough of anything alien in his song. There are pieces of nightingale trills, and the sharp meow of an oriole, and the sweet voice of a robin, and the musical babbling of a warbler, and the thin whistle of a titmouse, and among these melodies suddenly such voices are heard that, sitting alone, you can’t help but laugh: a hen cackles on a tree , the sharpener's knife will hiss, the door will creak, the children's military trumpet will blow. And, having made this unexpected musical retreat, the starling, as if nothing had happened, without a break, continues his cheerful, sweet, humorous song.
Lark
I. Sokolov-Mikitov
Of the many sounds of the earth: the singing of birds, the fluttering of leaves on the trees, the crackling of grasshoppers, the murmur of a forest stream - the most cheerful and joyful sound is the song of field larks and meadow larks. More early spring, when there is loose snow on the fields, but dark thawed patches have already formed in some places in the warming up, our early spring guests arrive and begin to sing. Rising into the sky in a column, fluttering its wings, permeated through with sunlight, the lark flies higher and higher into the sky, disappearing into the shining blue. The song of a lark welcoming the arrival of spring is amazingly beautiful. This joyful song is like the breath of the awakened earth.
Many great composers tried to depict this joyful song in their musical works...
Much can be heard in the awakening spring forest. Hazel grouse squeak subtly, invisible owls hoot at night. Arrived cranes perform spring round dances in the impenetrable swamp. Bees buzz above the yellow golden downy coats of a flowering willow. And in the bushes on the river bank the first nightingale began to click and sing loudly.
Swan
Aksakov S. T.
The swan, due to its size, strength, beauty and majestic posture, has long been rightly called the king of all aquatic, or waterfowl. White as snow, with shiny, transparent small eyes, with a black nose and black paws, with a long, flexible and beautiful neck, he is inexpressibly beautiful when he calmly floats between the green reeds on the dark blue, smooth surface of the water.
Swan movements
Aksakov S. T.
All the movements of the swan are full of charm: will it start to drink and, scooping up water with its nose, raise its head up and stretch its neck; will he begin to swim, dive and splash with his mighty wings, scattering far away splashes of water rolling off his fluffy body; will he then begin to preen himself, easily and freely arching his snow-white neck back, straightening and cleaning with his nose the crumpled or dirty feathers on the back, sides and tail; whether the wing spreads through the air, as if a long slanting sail, and also begins to finger each feather in it with its nose, airing and drying it in the sun - everything is picturesque and magnificent in it.
Sparrow
Charushin E. I.
Nikita and dad went for a walk. He was walking and walking and suddenly he heard someone chirping: Chilik-chilik! Chilik-chilik! Chilik-chilik!
And Nikita sees that it is a little sparrow jumping along the road.
So ruffled, just like a ball rolling. Its tail is short, its beak is yellow, and it doesn’t fly anywhere. Apparently he doesn’t know how yet.
Look, dad,” Nikita shouted, “the sparrow is not real!”
And dad says:
No, this is a real sparrow, but only a small one. This is probably the chick falling out of its nest.
Then Nikita ran to catch a sparrow and caught it. And this little sparrow began to live in a cage at our house, and Nikita fed him flies, worms and a bun with milk.
Here is a sparrow living with Nikita. He screams all the time and asks for food. What a glutton! As soon as the sun appears in the morning, he will chirp and wake everyone up.
Then Nikita said:
I will teach him to fly and release him.
He took the sparrow out of the cage, sat it on the floor and began to teach.
“You flap your wings like this,” Nikita said and showed with his hands how to fly. And the sparrow jumped under the chest of drawers.
We fed the sparrow for another day. Again Nikita put him on the floor to teach him to fly. Nikita waved his arms, and the sparrow flapped its wings.
The sparrow has flown!
So he flew over the pencil. A red fire truck flew over. And when he began to fly over the inanimate toy cat, he bumped into it and fell.
“You’re still a bad flyer,” Nikita tells him. - Let me feed you for another day.
He fed and fed, and the next day the sparrow flew over Nikitin’s bench. Flew over a chair. Flew over the table with the jug. But he couldn’t fly over the chest of drawers - he fell.
Apparently, we still need to feed him. The next day Nikita took the sparrow with him into the garden and released it there.
The sparrow flew over the brick.
Flew over a stump.
And he began to fly over the fence, but bumped into it and fell.
And the next day he flew over the fence.
And flew over the tree.
And flew over the house.
And he completely flew away from Nikita.
That's how great it was to learn to fly!
Winter debts
N.I. Sladkov
The Sparrow was chirping on the dung heap - and he was jumping up and down! And the Crow Hag croaks in her nasty voice:
Why, Sparrow, was he happy, why was he chirping?
“The wings itch, Crow, the nose itches,” Sparrow answers. - The passion to fight is the hunt! Don’t croak here, don’t spoil my spring mood!
But I'll ruin it! - Crow does not lag behind. - How can I ask a question?
I scared you!
And I'll scare you. Did you peck crumbs in the trash bin in winter?
Pecked.
Did you pick up grains from the barnyard?
Picked it up.
Did you have lunch in the bird cafeteria near the school?
Thank you guys for feeding me.
That's it! - Crow bursts into tears. - With what
Are you thinking of paying for all this? With your chirping?
Am I the only one who used it? - Sparrow was confused. - And the Tit was there, and the Woodpecker, and the Magpie, and the Jackdaw. And you, Vorona, were...
Don't confuse others! - Crow wheezes. - You answer for yourself. Borrowed - give back! As all decent birds do.
Decent ones, maybe they do,” Sparrow became angry. - But are you doing it, Crow?
I'll cry before anyone else! Do you hear a tractor plowing in the field? And behind him, I pick out all sorts of root beetles and root rodents from the furrow. And Magpie and Galka help me. And looking at us, other birds are also trying.
Don't vouch for others either! - Sparrow insists. - Others may have forgotten to think.
But Crow doesn’t let up:
Come and check it out!
Sparrow flew to check. He flew into the garden, where the Tit lives in a new nest.
Congratulations on your housewarming! - Sparrow says. - In my joy, I suppose I forgot about my debts!
I haven’t forgotten, Sparrow, that you are! - Titmouse answers. “The guys treated me to delicious salsa in the winter, and in the fall I’ll treat them to sweet apples.” I protect the garden from codling moths and leaf-eaters.
For what reason did Sparrow fly to my forest?
“But they’re demanding payment from me,” Sparrow tweets. - And you, Woodpecker, how do you pay?
That’s how I try,” answers the Woodpecker. - I protect the forest from wood borers and bark beetles. I fight them tooth and nail! I even got fat...
Look, thought Sparrow. - I thought...
Sparrow returned to the dung heap and said to Crow:
Yours, hag, the truth! Everyone is paying off winter debts. Am I worse than others? How can I start feeding my chicks mosquitoes, horseflies and flies! So that the bloodsuckers don't sting these guys! I'll pay back my debts in no time!
He said so and let’s jump up and chirp on the dung heap again. There is still free time. Until the sparrows in the nest hatched.
Arithmetic titmice
N.I. Sladkov
In the spring, the white-cheeked tits sing loudest of all: they ring their bells. In different ways and manners. Some people just hear: “Twice two, twice two, twice two!” And others whistle smartly: “Four-four-four-four!”
From morning to evening, titmouses cram the multiplication table.
“Twice two, twice two, twice two!” - some shout.
“Four-four-four!” - others answer cheerfully.
Arithmetic titmice. 
Brave duckling
Boris Zhitkov
Every morning the housewife brought out a full plate of chopped eggs for the ducklings. She put the plate near the bush and left.
As soon as the ducklings ran up to the plate, suddenly a large dragonfly flew out of the garden and began to circle above them.
She chirped so terribly that the frightened ducklings ran away and hid in the grass. They were afraid that the dragonfly would bite them all.
And the evil dragonfly sat on the plate, tasted the food and then flew away. After this, the ducklings did not come to the plate for the whole day. They were afraid that the dragonfly would fly again. In the evening, the hostess removed the plate and said: “Our ducklings must be sick, for some reason they are not eating anything.” Little did she know that the ducklings went to bed hungry every night.
One day, their neighbor, the little duckling Alyosha, came to visit the ducklings. When the ducklings told him about the dragonfly, he began to laugh.
What brave men! - he said. - I alone will drive away this dragonfly. You'll see tomorrow.
“You are bragging,” said the ducklings, “tomorrow you will be the first to get scared and run.”
The next morning, the hostess, as always, put a plate of chopped eggs on the ground and left.
Well, look, - said the brave Alyosha, - now I will fight with your dragonfly.
As soon as he said this, a dragonfly began to buzz. It flew straight from above onto the plate.
The ducklings wanted to run away, but Alyosha was not afraid. Before the dragonfly had time to sit on the plate, Alyosha grabbed its wing with his beak. She forcibly escaped and flew away with a broken wing.
Since then, she never flew into the garden, and the ducklings ate their fill every day. They not only ate themselves, but also treated the brave Alyosha for saving them from the dragonfly.
Jackdaw
Boris Zhitkov
The brother and sister had a pet jackdaw. She ate from her hands, let herself be petted, flew out into the wild and flew back.
Once my sister began to wash herself. She took the ring off her hand, put it on the sink and lathered her face with soap. And when she rinsed the soap, she looked: where is the ring? But there is no ring.
She shouted to her brother:
Give me the ring, don't tease me! Why did you take it?
“I didn’t take anything,” the brother answered.
His sister quarreled with him and cried.
Grandma heard.
What do you have here? - speaks. - Give me glasses, now I’ll find this ring.
We rushed to look for glasses - no glasses.
“I just put them on the table,” the grandmother cries. -Where should they go? How can I thread a needle now?
And she screamed at the boy.
It's your business! Why are you teasing grandma?
The boy got offended and ran out of the house. He looks, and a jackdaw is flying above the roof, and something glitters under her beak. I took a closer look - yes, these are glasses! The boy hid behind a tree and began to watch. And the jackdaw sat on the roof, looked around to see if anyone was watching, and began pushing the glasses on the roof into the crack with her beak.
The grandmother came out onto the porch and said to the boy:
Tell me, where are my glasses?
On the roof! - said the boy.
Grandma was surprised. And the boy climbed onto the roof and pulled out his grandmother’s glasses from the crack. Then he pulled out the ring from there. And then he took out pieces of glass, and then a lot of different pieces of money.
The grandmother was delighted with the glasses, and the sister was delighted with the ring and said to her brother:
Forgive me, I was thinking about you, but this is a thief jackdaw.
And they made peace with their brother.
Grandma said:
That's all them, jackdaws and magpies. Whatever glitters, they drag everything away.
Orphan
Georgy Skrebitsky
The guys brought us a small shirt... He couldn’t fly yet, he could only jump. We fed him cottage cheese, porridge, soaked bread, and gave him small pieces boiled meat; he ate everything and refused nothing.
Soon the little magpie grew a long tail and its wings were covered with stiff black feathers. He quickly learned to fly and moved to live from the room to the balcony.
The only problem with him was that our little magpie could not learn to eat on his own. The bird is quite an adult, so beautiful, flies well, and still asks for food like a little chick. You go out onto the balcony, sit down at the table, and the magpie is right there, spinning around in front of you, crouching, bristling its wings, opening its mouth. It’s funny and I feel sorry for her. Mom even nicknamed her Orphan. He used to put cottage cheese or soaked bread in her mouth, swallow the magpie - and then start begging again, but she herself wouldn’t take a bite from the plate. We taught and taught her, but nothing came of it, so we had to stuff food into her mouth. Orphan would sometimes eat her fill, shake herself up, look with her sly black eye at the plate to see if there was anything else tasty there, and fly up onto the crossbar right up to the ceiling or fly into the garden, into the yard... She flew everywhere and knew everyone : with the fat cat Ivanovich, with the hunting dog Jack, with ducks, chickens; Even with the old pugnacious rooster Petrovich, the magpie was on friendly terms. He bullied everyone in the yard, but didn’t touch her. It used to be that chickens would peck from the trough, and the magpie would immediately turn around. It smells delicious of warm pickled bran, the magpie wants to have breakfast in the friendly company of chickens, but nothing comes of it. Orphan pesters the chickens, crouches, squeaks, opens her beak - no one wants to feed her. She will jump up to Petrovich, squeal, and he will just look at her and mutter: “What a disgrace this is!” - and will go away. And then he suddenly flaps his strong wings, stretches his neck upward, strains, stands on tiptoe and sings: “Ku-ka-re-ku!” - so loud that you can hear it even across the river.
And the magpie jumps and jumps around the yard, flies into the stable, looks into the cow’s stall... Everyone eats themselves, and she again has to fly to the balcony and ask to be hand-fed.
One day there was no one to bother with the magpie. Everyone was busy all day. She pestered and pestered everyone - no one feeds her!
That day I was fishing in the river in the morning, returned home only in the evening and threw out the worms left over from fishing in the yard. Let the chickens peck.
Petrovich immediately noticed the prey, ran up and began calling the chickens: “Ko-ko-ko-ko! Ko-ko-ko-ko!” And as luck would have it, they scattered somewhere, not one of them was in the yard. The rooster is really exhausted! He calls and calls, then he grabs the worm in his beak, shakes it, throws it and calls again - he never wants to eat the first one. I’m even hoarse, but the chickens still won’t come.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a magpie. She flew up to Petrovich, spread her wings and opened her mouth: feed me, they say.
The rooster immediately perked up, grabbed a huge worm in his beak, picked it up, and shook it right in front of the magpie’s nose. She looked, looked, then grabbed a worm - and ate it! And the rooster is already giving her a second one. She ate both the second and the third, and Petrovich pecked the fourth himself.
I look out the window and am amazed at how the rooster feeds the magpie from his beak: he will give it to her, then he will eat it himself, then he will offer it to her again. And he keeps repeating: “Ko-ko-ko-ko!..” He bows and uses his beak to show the worms on the ground: eat, don’t be afraid, they’re so delicious.
And I don’t know how it all worked out for them, how he explained to her what was the matter, I just saw the rooster crowed, showed a worm on the ground, and the magpie jumped up, turned its head to one side, to the other, took a closer look and ate it right from the ground . Petrovich even shook his head as a sign of approval; then he grabbed a hefty worm himself, threw it up, grabbed it more comfortably with his beak and swallowed it: here, they say, as we think. But the magpie apparently understood what was going on - it jumped near him and pecked. The rooster also began to pick up worms. So they try to race each other to see who can do it faster. Instantly all the worms were eaten.
Since then, the magpie no longer had to be hand-fed. One time Petrovich taught her how to manage food. And how he explained this to her, I myself don’t know.
Forest voice
Georgy Skrebitsky
Sunny day at the very beginning of summer. I am wandering not far from home, in a birch forest. Everything around seems to be bathing, splashing in golden waves of warmth and light. Birch branches flow above me. The leaves on them seem either emerald green or completely golden. And below, under the birches, light bluish shadows also run and flow across the grass, like waves. And the light bunnies, like reflections of the sun in the water, run one after another along the grass, along the path.
The sun is both in the sky and on the ground... And this makes it feel so good, so fun that you want to run away somewhere into the distance, to where the trunks of young birch trees sparkle with their dazzling whiteness.
And suddenly from this sunny distance I heard a familiar forest voice: “Kuk-ku, kuk-ku!”
Cuckoo! I've heard it many times before, but I've never even seen it in a picture. What is she like? For some reason she seemed plump and big-headed to me, like an owl. But maybe she's not like that at all? I'll run and have a look.
Alas, it turned out to be far from easy. I go to her voice. And she will fall silent, and then again: “Kuk-ku, kuk-ku,” but in a completely different place.
How can you see her? I stopped in thought. Or maybe she's playing hide and seek with me? She's hiding, and I'm looking. Let's play it the other way around: now I'll hide, and you look.
I climbed into the hazel bush and also cuckooed once and twice. The cuckoo has fallen silent, maybe it’s looking for me? I sit in silence, even my heart is pounding with excitement. And suddenly, somewhere nearby: “Kuk-ku, kuk-ku!”
I am silent: better look, don’t shout to the whole forest.
And she’s already very close: “Kuk-ku, kuk-ku!”
I look: some kind of bird is flying across the clearing, its tail is long, it is gray, only its chest is covered in dark speckles. Probably a hawk. This one in our yard hunts sparrows. He flew up to a nearby tree, sat down on a branch, bent down and shouted: “Kuk-ku, kuk-ku!”
Cuckoo! That's it! This means that she does not look like an owl, but like a hawk.
I'll crow out of the bush in response to her! Out of fright, she almost fell out of the tree, immediately darted down from the branch, scurried off somewhere into the thicket of the forest, and that was all I saw.
But I don’t need to see her anymore. So I solved the forest riddle, and besides, for the first time I spoke to the bird in its native language.
So the clear forest voice of the cuckoo revealed to me the first secret of the forest. And since then, for half a century, I have been wandering in winter and summer along remote untrodden paths and discovering more and more new secrets. And there is no end to these winding paths, and there is no end to the secrets of our native nature.
Friendship
Georgy Skrebitsky
One day my brother and I were sitting in our room in the winter and looking out the window at the yard. And in the yard, by the fence, crows and jackdaws were digging in the garbage.
Suddenly we see that some kind of bird has flown towards them, completely black, with a blue tint, and a large, white nose. What a wonder: it’s a rook! Where did he come from in winter? We see a rook walking through the garbage heap among the crows and limping a little - probably someone sick or old; He couldn’t fly south with other rooks, so he stayed with us for the winter.
Then every morning a rook got into the habit of flying to our trash heap. We will deliberately crumble him some bread, porridge, and cottage cheese from lunch. Only he didn’t get much: the crows would eat everything - they’re such impudent birds. And some quiet rook was caught. He stays on the sidelines, all alone. And that’s true: his brethren flew south, he was the only one left; Crows are bad company for him. We see that the gray robbers are offending our rook, but we don’t know how to help him. How to feed him without the crows disturbing him?
Day by day the rook became sadder. Sometimes he would fly in and sit on the fence, but he was afraid to go down to the trash heap among the crows: he was completely weak.
One morning we looked out the window, and a rook was lying under the fence. We ran and brought him into the house; he can barely breathe. We put him in a box next to the stove, covered him with a blanket and gave him all kinds of food.
He stayed with us for two weeks, warmed up, and ate a little. We think: what to do with him further? Don't keep him in a box all winter! We decided to release him into the wild again: maybe he will be stronger now and will survive the winter somehow.
And the rook, apparently, realized that we did good to him, which means there is nothing to be afraid of people. Since then, I spent whole days like this with the chickens in the yard.
At that time, a tame magpie, Orphan, lived with us. We took her as a chick and raised her. The orphan flew freely around the yard and garden, and returned to the balcony to spend the night. Here we see - our rook has become friends with Orphan: where she flies, he follows her. One day we see - the Orphan flew to the balcony, and the rook also showed up with her. It’s important to walk around the table like that. And the magpie, like a mistress, fusses and jumps around him.
We slowly stuck a cup of soaked bread out from under the door. The magpie goes straight to the cup, and the rook follows it. We both had breakfast and flew away. So every day the two of them began to fly to the balcony to feed.
Winter passed, the rooks returned from the south, and started making noise in the old birch grove. In the evenings, they sit in couples near the nests, sit and talk, as if they are discussing their affairs. Only our rook did not find a mate; he still flew everywhere after Orphan. And in the evening they will sit on a birch tree near the house and sit side by side, close, side by side.
You look at them and involuntarily think: this means that birds also have friendship.
STORK
This is an old friend of ours:
He lives on the roof of the house -
Long-legged, long-nosed,
Long-necked, voiceless.
He flies to hunt
For frogs to the swamp.
Since ancient times, people have considered white storks to be a symbol of good luck and success. If storks have built a nest on the roof of a house, this should certainly bring happiness to its owner.
People have composed many legends about storks. According to one of them, storks bring newborn babies to parents, and according to another, storks often throw gems into the chimneys of the chimneys on which they built a nest. On Annunciation, cookies with the image of a stork were baked for the arrival of storks. Children threw cookies up and asked the stork to bring a good harvest.
From time immemorial, storks have settled next to humans. A male stork chooses a girlfriend with whom he lives his whole life. A pair of storks builds a large nest of branches, which is usually located on trees or rocks, but more often on man-made structures: houses, tall factory chimneys, or on power transmission poles.
The nest serves as a cozy home for storks for many years. Every year, returning from warm countries in the spring, storks repair the nest and weave new branches into it.
In mid-spring, the female lays 3 to 8 eggs. They are incubated by both parents. After 4–6 weeks, the eggs hatch into small storks. After another two months, the chicks begin to learn to fly and go on their first hunt with their parents.
Storks feed on frogs and lizards, as well as mollusks, worms, insects and their larvae.
MYSTERY
This white-winged bird
It doesn't fit in the zoo.
To make people smile
Flies towards them with a package... (stork)
(N. Kindness) FOLK SIGNS A flying stork portends to those who see it health and harvest, marriage and health; motionless stork - illness, drought, celibacy. Money in your pocket when meeting a stork promises wealth, and empty pockets promise losses.
HERON
Stands on one leg
He looks intently into the water,
Pokes his beak at random -
Looking for frogs in the river.
(A. Picture)
You, of course, guessed that these poems are dedicated to the heron. Herons live on the banks of ponds and swamps on all continents of our planet, except Antarctica.
Herons' favorite food is small fish and frogs. When stalking prey, a heron can for a long time stand in one place motionless, sometimes leaning on one leg. Seeing a fish approaching, the heron makes a sharp movement of its head and grabs the prey. The special structure of the neck allows the heron to make very fast and sharp lunges with its head.
Frogs only see moving objects, so they simply do not notice a stationary heron. And the heron lures the fish by wiggling its long toes in the water. The fish think that worms are crawling along the bottom and swim straight into the heron’s beak.
Herons live in large families, making nests in trees, or even just on the ground. The female lays large greenish eggs, from which chicks hatch after about a month. They are completely naked and helpless. The chicks are constantly asking for food, and the male heron is forced to spend the whole day looking for food. The female remains in the nest. When the chicks grow up a little, the female goes hunting with the male.
It's interesting to watch herons fly. While most other birds stretch their necks and heads forward, herons, on the contrary, draw their necks deep into their shoulders.
Some species of heron have a distinctive mane of long feathers on their head, neck or back.
PUZZLES
This bird has
The beak is like two spokes.
She walks on the water
Every now and then my nose gets wet.
(Heron)
* * *
This is who is standing in the swamp
On one leg in a nap?
Who has a drop on his beak?
Well, of course it is... (heron)
SPARROW
Little Sparrows,
Little gray feathers!
Peck, peck the crumbs
From the palm of my hand!
(S. Egorov)
Sparrows are long-time neighbors of humans. They build their nests next to people's houses, and sometimes right on them - under the roof, in cracks in walls or behind the eaves of windows and doors. Sparrows are surprisingly unpretentious. They eat any food and help gardeners by destroying harmful insects. But on occasion they can also harm crops by pecking out grains. “Beat the thief!” - the peasants shouted in the old days when they saw a flock of small birds in their fields. This is where the name sparrow comes from.
There are city and field sparrows. City sparrows are small, gray birds, while field sparrows are brighter in color - they have a brown cap on their heads and two light stripes on their wings.
Daring Sparrow
Shown from the asphalt
In front of a flock of pigeons
And a jump and a somersault.
(Yu. Parfenov)
Sparrows communicate with each other by loudly chirping, reporting feeding locations or that a predator is creeping up on the flock. Together it is easier to find food and avoid danger. Sometimes a flock of sparrows fought back even a formidable hawk!
Behind warm time During the course of a year, a sparrow has time to lay eggs 2–3 times and hatch offspring. Scientists have calculated that with such fertility, sparrows should have already displaced all other birds from our planet. But this does not happen, because not all chicks survive, dying in the claws and beaks of predatory animals and birds.
MYSTERY
Little boy
In a gray army jacket
Snooping around the yards
Collects crumbs.
(Sparrow) PROVERBS AND SAYINGS
A hungry sparrow sits on the chaff.
And the sparrow chirps at the cat.
You can't fool an old sparrow with chaff.
MARTIN
The sun is warming up hot,
Streams are babbling in the yard,
And at our window
A flock of swallows is calling.
They flew up... Hush, hush...
They hover around the porch screaming.
These are swallows under the roof
They build nests for chicks.
(N. Zabila)
One of the fastest birds is swallows. Their body shape is ideally suited for flight, with arrow-shaped wings and a forked tail. Externally, swallows look like swifts.
Swallows' legs are weak and it is difficult for them to support their body. That's why swallows never walk on the ground. They fly all the time, and when they get tired, they sit on tree branches or telegraph wires. Swallows even drink on the fly, scooping up water from the river with their beaks.
Like other migratory birds, with the onset of cold weather, swallows fly south for the winter, to warm countries. In the spring they always return to their native places.
You can predict the weather by the behavior of swallows. If swallows are circling high in the sky, it will be warm and dry. But they fly almost close to the ground, which means it will rain soon. Why is that? It turns out that before the rain, insects that are exposed to moisture from the atmosphere descend to the surface of the earth. Swallow hunters also rush after them.
Swallows build nests from lumps of clay, joining them with saliva. For the barn swallow, the entrance to the nest is located at the top, and for the city swallow, it is on the side. The inside of the nest is lined with down and feathers. Shore swallows dig holes in the slopes of steep river banks.
MYSTERY
Comes to us with warmth,
It's been a long journey.
Builds a house under the window
Made from grass and clay.
(Swallow) FOLK SIGNS
Early swallows - for a happy harvest year.
The swallow begins the day, the nightingale ends the evening.
Swallows fly high in the sky - it means good weather, and if they fly low - it means rain.
The cuckoo brings news of summer, the swallow brings warm days.
In our area there are field and wood larks. These are small birds, similar to sparrows: gray and red. They are melodious and active: they are good at hiding from human eyes among the ears of the field.
Larks winter in the south, as they are migratory birds. They do not like the cold, cannot withstand it, and therefore in the fall they head to warmer climes. That is, larks leave our lands and go to countries along the shores Mediterranean Sea. For example, to the south coast warm Spain. Some of the larks even reach Arabia.
Crimean larks often do not fly anywhere, because there is no severe frost in Crimea on the southern coast. They survive the winter in their homeland.
The lark usually wakes up and begins to sing very early in the morning. The other birds are still sleeping, but his song is already spilling into the azure sky. Therefore, people who always wake up early are called larks, and those who sleep to their heart's content in the morning, almost until lunch, are called owls.
Option 2. Story-description of the migratory bird starling
My grandmother tied glitter ribbons on the cherry trees every summer. She did this to drive away starlings - birds that love to peck delicious cherries. Starlings are most often black. They are small, but you can’t call them small birds either. I would say that starlings are average in size for birds.
In winter, starlings fly to warm countries. They return early in the spring, one of the first birds, and with their arrival mark the arrival of spring. Sometimes there is even snow on the ground, but these travelers are already here!
Starlings are noisy creatures. Grandmother always heard when these scoundrels were about to attack her cherries, because they made such a noise - you could hear them beyond the outskirts.
Option 3. Story-description of the migratory bird nightingale
This amazing bird is loved and respected by people in our country and abroad, and people write about it good fairy tales and write beautiful poems. And one cannot imagine how it is possible not to admire the nightingale’s singing.
The nightingale is a small gray bird that looks like an ordinary sparrow. The great singer seems invisible from the outside. The only decoration that nightingale species can wear is a bright, multi-colored “bib.”
In spring, in our area, nightingales burst into melodious singing every night, especially in thickets and groves near rivers and lakes. They love to live in damp, warm areas and corners. Therefore, in the winter, nightingales, which cannot stand the severe northern frost, go on a long journey to African lands. This fragile bird has to go through many trials while it gets to safe place, to sun-warmed countries.
Option 4. Story-description of a migratory bird stork
Stork - very beautiful bird. It is large in size and has a wide wingspan. Nature has endowed him with a white outfit, only the flight feathers of his wings are painted black.
He makes his own large nests always at altitude, most often near human habitation, but can also choose a remote corner wildlife. A slender, beautiful stork looks from the top of his nest at people below and is not at all afraid of them: and he most often makes his nests on power poles, on roofs, large strong trees and water towers.
Storks most often leave our areas for the winter. They gather in flocks and move to Africa. Gradually, on their way, small flocks flock into large ones. Then in the sky you can see migrating storks and their brothers: cranes and herons, by the thousands.
A small long-winged bird of the swallow family from the order Passeriformes. A swallow flying from across the sea is connected with another world, acts as a mediator between death and life, the distant sea and the nearby land, sometimes as a receptacle for the deceased. There are numerous examples where the swallow acts as a symbol of danger, hostility and unreliability. Also, in another sense, the swallow brings life, happiness, and comfort.
IN ancient east The swallow was considered as a symbol and image of the goddess Nina as the Great Mother.
In Egypt, the swallow was a symbol of paternal heritage because before it dies it builds a nest for its chicks. According to the myth, Isis, in the guise of a swallow, sets off to look for her murdered husband Osiris. Since the 18th Dynasty, the swallow has been revered as a sacred animal in Thebes. Swallows flying over the river of life "Eternal northern stars".
In antiquity, the swallow was revered as a symbol of the goddess Aphrodite. As the messengers of spring are celebrated in ancient Greek chants, their twittering is compared to barbarian tongues. The construction of nests on houses by swallows was not always, unlike current popular beliefs, assessed positively; it could also be an unkind omen.
Since antiquity it is believed: eating the ashes of a swallow that hatched its chicks will become irresistible to any woman; swallow blood and droppings can stimulate the growth of beautiful hair; The reddish stone chelidon (celandine) found in the stomach of young swallows has magical powers:- in the Middle Ages this deposit was used to treat epilepsy, - makes the one who wears it in his mouth invisible.
The Slavs knew that: The swallow and the dove are birds beloved by God. The swallow glorifies God with its singing. Her chirping is perceived as a prayer: “Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us.” In the folk legend about the crucifixion of Christ, swallows tried to save Him from torment: they shouted “He’s dead, he’s dead!”, stole nails, took out thorns from His crown and brought Him water.
The swallow has the functions of the patroness of home and livestock: A swallow's nest under the roof brings happiness to the home. If a swallow abandons its nest, the entire family in the house will die. The one who kills a swallow will not have luck in raising livestock, and the one who destroys her nest will lose his home or go blind, freckles will appear on his face, his mother or someone at home will die, the cow will die, the cow will lose milk or she will be milked with blood . It is also believed that the swallow’s nest protects the house from fire and that the swallow will burn down the house of the offender who destroyed its nest: it is not for nothing that it has a red spot, as if from a burn. There is a sign that a girl will soon get married if a swallow makes a nest on her house or flies into her window. If swallows and doves fly near the house when a wedding is being celebrated there, the newlyweds will be happy in their marriage. He who carries the heart of a swallow with him will be loved by women.
The swallow and its nest are used in love magic. Swallow is the messenger of spring. They say: “The swallow begins spring, but the nightingale ends.” In songs she is called the housekeeper: she brings golden keys from across the sea, with which she opens summer and closes winter. Most often, L.'s arrival is timed to coincide with the Annunciation (25.III/7.IV). In some areas southern Russia On the Forty Martyrs (9/22.III) “swallows” with open wings were baked for the arrival of birds.
Sometimes in the twitter of a swallow one can hear a complaint about the bins being empty during the winter: the sparrows have eaten all the grain. In the spring, when they see the first swallow, they try to wash their face to avoid freckles, pimples or sunburn. While washing, they said: “Lastivko, lastivko! Toby has stoneflies, give me some stoneflies!” It is also believed that if you wash your face for the first time, you will become frisky and cheerful, and get rid of drowsiness and illness. Ukrainians, Belarusians and Poles have widespread beliefs about swallows wintering in the water. On the day of St. Simeon the Stylite (1/14.IX), swallows gather together and complain to this saint that the sparrows occupied their nests and the children ruined them. Immediately after this or on the Exaltation (14/27.IX) they hide in wells in order to quickly get to the Iriy this way. In autumn, people try not to bail out water from wells, so as not to prevent swallows from flying into the irium. According to other beliefs, swallows hide in rivers and lakes, link their paws or wings into chains and sleep under water. In the spring, only young swallows fly out of the water, while the old ones lose their feathers and turn into frogs. The swallow reveals similarities with the weasel: their names are related in origin; with the help of a swallow, as well as by the color of a weasel, they determine the choice of color of livestock; at the sight of the first swallow, they take the ground from under their feet and look for a hair in it: what color it turns out to be, this is the color you should buy a horse so that the brownie likes it; A swallow flying under a cow is considered the cause of blood in the milk, just like a weasel running under a cow.