An impact image of a bird on a Minneapolis window. Photo by Richard Greene of New Ulm.
An impact image of a bird on a Minneapolis window. Photo by Richard Greene of New Ulm.
The snow has melted.
Were magpies.
A friend, Jody Wynnemer, shared this photo with me.
The vulture performs an aerial ballet for those who are fortunate or wise enough to watch.
Or a robin reality TV show.
I had one of those stare out the window moments. Sometimes, it’s just the thing to do. Most of the world is out there somewhere. Daydreaming delights me and a window offers fascinating things well worth contemplating. Each gaze brings amazement. Each glimpse brings wonder. During this particular look, the signs of spring were outnumbered by the signs of March--a March made of both winter and spring. Cold and snow prevailed. Spring could have been just a myth.
Yet, the day was decorated in birds and the morning had secrets to share. Goldfinches had begun to be golden birds once again as their plumages moved from olive drab to yellow. The bills of starlings had turned yellow for spring. Canada geese honked like hounds on a fresh trail as they flew overhead. House finches sang beautiful songs that once made them caged birds sold as Hollywood finches. The red of the handsome males was good to see. They can be orangish or yellowish, too, depending upon diets. Robins fueled by testosterone tussled in territorial disputes. It seemed unnecessary at such an early date, but they must know what they are doing. My mother claimed that a returning robin needed three snows on its tail before spring could arrive. Red-osier dogwood showcased its red veins of spring. Also called red twig dogwood or red willow, it brightens the grayish landscape.
The dawn chorus, an inspiring demonstration of vocal athleticism, will begin in earnest before long. It’s when birds, mostly males, declare territories and intentions. Emily Dickinson, described it this way, "The birds begun at four o’clock— Their period for dawn— A music numerous as space And measureless as noon."
Studies have shown that birds sing louder to overcome traffic noise. It’s difficult to escape manmade sound.
I watched and heard a downy woodpecker hammer upon a hollow tree. That’s a cry for spring. The downy is the most common woodpecker species to visit a backyard bird feeder. A woodpecker isn’t the most melodious of singers, so it uses its pointed bill to produce sounds on resonant surfaces. Woodpeckers play percussion instruments in accompaniment to the singers of the dawn chorus.
Eagle optics has just the binoculars for you. Check out this video.
The wind whispered stories. The sky flared pink. I thought it might rain, but it didn’t.
John Updike said that if he could be any animal, he’d be a turtle, because he liked the sound of rain on a roof. If I could be any animal, I’d be a crow. I've always wondered what skunk tastes like.
A song sparrow sang on my birthday. A kestrel did a fixed-wing dive at a perched crow. It did little more than irritate the crow. The crow was so much larger that the kestrel looked like an oversized mosquito, filled with ferocity. A red-tailed hawk made an attempt to capture a rock pigeon feeding on the ground. The raptor was unsuccessful.
Friends reported eagle nests along lakes not far from where I live. Bald eagles have been nesting in my home county for a good number of years, but it still seems to be a miracle whenever I see one.
John Hay wrote that without birds, the days would go by without definition. I watched Canada geese fly over, some in flocks and some in pairs. One flock was flying in a V-formation, honking while booking it northward. One goose was far behind the rest. It had a formation of one. I imagined it honking, "Hey, guys, wait up."
I heard a red-tailed hawk’s raspy scream that sounded as a raptor should sound. At least, that’s what Hollywood directors must think. Whenever a raptor appeared onscreen during my young years, the shrill cry on the soundtrack was almost always that of a red-tailed hawk.
A branch provided purchase for the tiny feet of a junco. I watched starlings perch on utility wires. They are a species adapting to its environment.
Soon the frost boils will be blooming on our roads. Does spring bring the birds or do the birds bring spring?
Al Batt
From an old fire hall in Minnesota.
To this in Chicago.
Life is an incredible journey.
Mockingbirds entertained me. This lovely photo was taken by a friend named Bryce Gaudian.
The sign was meant to welcome spring, but Old Man Winter thought it meant that all was forgiven and he should come back.
With the ice, I might be able to hear songbirds walking and hopping.
Snowmelt from utility wires tried to connect the dots on the snow below.
I'm not certain as to its location.
Told me that spring is coming. A starling's bill turns yellow this time of the year.
If you drink this stuff.
In Salina, Kansas.