26 April 2024 (even a squeaky wheel)

even a squeaky wheel

arrives on time

black-and-white warbler

May 30: Maple leaves like fat green hands

Warbler sings unseen
from behind the screen of leaves.
I've waited for this.

May 28: Treefrog

We returned home from Monhegan this afternoon to be taunted by our backyard birds. After looking for three days for a black-and-white warbler out on the island, the first bird we heard upon pulling into our driveway was a black-and-white warbler, singing loudly right there. Then, as I was checking out how the flowers had progressed since we left on Saturday (lilacs in bloom! columbine in bloom! rhodos starting to bloom!), I was strafed by a hummingbird. We saw zero hummingbirds on Monhegan, despite the island being loaded with both flowers and nectar feeders--so this was a nice welcome home.

One odd thing, however, was hearing the trill of a gray treefrog coming from somewhere up the street. There are no wetlands in our neighborhood, other than the river on the downhill side of the house. This solo frog was calling plaintively in the vicinity of our neighbor's garden. I've been hearing him off and on for the past couple of weeks, but was surprised he was still around in what seems to be a completely random spot and still making noise. Guess he'll keep at it till he gets lucky.

Good luck, little frog--
you're not near water or mates,
but your song's pretty.

May 9: Scarlet Tanager

Allergies slammed me so hard last night that I slept about 12 hours and went in to work very late this morning. But thanks to the timing, I was in the right place at the right time. While at my desk preparing to leave, I happened to notice a black-and-white warbler spiraling a tree branch outside the window. I went out on the back porch with my binoculars to get a better look: a striking male in bright spring plumage, pausing every now and then to sing his "squeaky wheel" song. Nearby, a downy woodpecker climbed a birch, and a ruby-crowned kinglet chattered in the arbor vitae. The goldfinches kept up their usual cacophony in the background.

Then I caught a glimpse of red in the maple tree hanging over the river. Expecting to see the neighborhood cardinal, I gasped aloud when I looked through the binoculars and saw a scarlet tanager. While he isn't all-over red like the cardinal--his wings are black--his red is a pure, vivid scarlet, a vibrant color more suitable for the tropics than a foggy back yard in Maine. But there he was, poking around the freshly unfurled maple leaves as the river rushed beneath him. I hoped he'd sing, but he remained silent. Silent, but very visible, until at last I had to drag myself off to work.

Red as a stop light,
and who wouldn't pause to look
at such bright beauty?

April 28: First warblers

A few warblers have been around for a little while--yellow-rumped, pine, palm, the odd sighting of other species here and there, and in southern Maine, the discovery of a hooded warbler, an unusual visitor that doesn't often wander this far north. Very early this morning, as I was jogging up the street to catch a ride to an all-day land conservation conference--as usual, I was a little late--I made myself even more late when I stopped to listen to my first black-and-white warbler of the year. That sweet, high-pitched "squeaky wheel" song was clearly audible over the roar of the still-high river.

The next few weeks should herald the arrival of many more warblers. I think I'm going to start walking to work--a real possibility now that I don't have to lug a laptop to and fro anymore. This time of year, each day's returning birds is new cause for excitement, so I'm betting that I'm going to be strolling in even later than ever, having paused along the way for each chip and trill.

I'm late yet again,
steps slowed by a "squeaky wheel"--
welcome back, warbler!

Female black-and-white warbler. Photo courtesy of Wolfgang Wander via Wikimedia Commons.