From Spring-time, all through the Summer until September, the male and female were absorbed in the great, beautiful, indispensable task of breeding their young. In September the fledgelings took wing.  
The Spring and Summer developed in their multi-coloured glory: they burned with splendour; the pine-trees glowed with a phosphorescence. There was the of wormwood. Chicory, blue- bells, buttercups, milfoil, and cowslip blossomed and faded; prickly thistles .
 
In May the nights were deeply blue.
 
In June they were pale green.
 
The dawn broke in a blood-red like a great , and at night pale silvery mists moved along the bottom of the ravine, washing the tops of the pines.
 
At first the nest contained five grey eggs with green speckles. Then came the little birds, big-headed, with disproportionately large yellow mouths, their bodies covered with down. They chirruped , stretching their long necks out from the nest, and they ate .
 
They flew in June, though as yet clumsily, piping, and awkwardly fluttering their wings.
 
The female was with them all the time, her feathers, and .
 
The male had no power of thought and hardly any of feeling, but within him was a sense of pride in his own work, which he carried on with joy. His whole life was dominated with an instinct which his will and his desires to the care of his young.
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