The yard is alive with robins foraging, chasing, tut-tutting, rust-orange breasts the color of the oaks, all aglow in the mid-morning sun.
Tag Archives: robin
Drum of rain on the roof and the birds...
Drum of rain on the roof and the birds sound distant—robin, field sparrow, cowbird—the world greener than it’s been in seven months.
Cardinal, song sparrow, phoebe, robin...
Cardinal, song sparrow, phoebe, robin… the spring chorus is already taking shape. Overhead, the calls of crows, their labored wingbeats.
Bluer than blue sky, a perfect morning...
Bluer than blue sky, a perfect morning, and all I hear is a robin tut-tutting and a Carolina wren going Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up.
A low, leaden sky. Leaves blow backwards...
A low, leaden sky. Leaves blow backwards. A robin on a dead branch at the edge of the yard turns to face the woods.
A robin refurbishing an old nest lands...
A robin refurbishing an old nest lands each time on the lowest branch and labors up the ladder of limbs with his beakful of dead grass.
Towhee, robin, catbird, great-crested...
Towhee, robin, catbird, great-crested flycatcher: birdsongs sound more vivid in the rain, like jazz solos rising over a surf of applause.
Soft taps from a burdock leaf under...
Soft taps from a burdock leaf under the drip line: it’s raining. A rose-breasted grosbeak drops into the springhouse marsh to get a drink.
Heavy traffic on the driveway: a baby...
Heavy traffic on the driveway: a baby bunny races back and forth, followed by a strolling pair of catbirds and a robin’s methodical hop.
The Cooper’s hawk chases a redtail...
The Cooper’s hawk chases a redtail out of the woods—guided missile, staccato cry—and lands in a tall yard tree. The first yellow iris.
