Make a rough cross indicating these angles, then, having marked the tilt and swing of the bird, define the shape of the body, the wings, and the tail.
Whatever the position of the bird on the wing may be, whether swooping toward you or flying away, whether the wing be upraised, or down curving, you must aim first at getting the angles of body and wings.
Have you ever seen a kestrel fall like a plummet from the sky, and marked the forward thrust of the head as it hangs suspended? Have you noticed the seagull whirling and circling, dipping first one wing and then the other in the fringe of the foam? If so, you will understand how necessary it is to grasp the birds, position at a first glace.
Take up a place of observation in an open field, pencil in hand, and make jottings of your little feathered friends. An exasperation task I know! But your patience will be rewarded if you can sketch the fluff of two little folded wings, the tiny coiled-up claw, the perk of a glossy head, the saucy round eye peering through the leaves, minute but invaluable fragments.
We need not go far afield; the ordinary poultry-yard will afford plenty of interesting study.
For choice I should pitch on a young cockerel to sketch. Of all restless creatures I would give him the palm. But wait until he sinks into a dusty corner and his jewel-gold eye is closed. The shapely body and the wondrous complexity of head, beak, comb, and wattles are something at which to marvel; it is only by the closest observation, by utilizing the various suggestions we have already made, that we shall feel we are ready to cope with the problems they present.
First sketch your sparrows, robins, owls, swallows, and tiny feathered friends, later try the more difficult subject—and for all these sketches you might well take with you your brush and water-colour box. Sketch with your brush, instead of with your pencil, for a bird without colour is most strange and unnatural
