Tag Archives: scarlet tanager

In the cool shadows, the scarlet flame...

By Dave Bonta | Published August 1, 2011 at 9:53 am

In the cool shadows, the scarlet flame of a tanager gleaning insects from the leaves. An eddy of warm air brings the scent of ferns.

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The brown mountain of two weeks ago...

By Dave Bonta | Published May 17, 2011 at 11:33 am

The brown mountain of two weeks ago is now astonishingly green. Nothing I saw abroad holds a candle to this view, with its scarlet tanager.

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The ornamental cherry’s last...

By Dave Bonta | Published July 5, 2010 at 9:08 am

The ornamental cherry’s last leaves are dying. A silent wood thrush watches a tanager so scarlet it throbs in the light-drenched crown.

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Yes, I can watch tanagers in the treetops...

By Dave Bonta | Published May 14, 2010 at 8:35 am

Yes, I can watch tanagers in the treetops, a hooded warbler in the bush. But just over the ridge, the interstate howls. There’s no escape.

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Thin fog at dawn. From the woods’...

By Dave Bonta | Published September 4, 2009 at 9:17 am

Thin fog at dawn. From the woods’ edge, the familiar two-syllable call of a scarlet tanager sounds suddenly very much like goodbye.

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Beside the springhouse, the twittering...

By Dave Bonta | Published June 25, 2009 at 9:22 am

Beside the springhouse, the twittering zoom of a hummingbird’s courtship dive: from sunlight into cattail shadows and back. Tanager song.

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Sun through fog. Animals emerge and...

By Dave Bonta | Published May 15, 2009 at 9:34 am

Sun through fog. Animals emerge and vanish like actors in a play, bringing their cries and silences: goldfinches, a raven, a pair of deer.

 

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A pair of tanagers foraging in the...

By Dave Bonta | Published May 14, 2009 at 9:41 am

A pair of tanagers foraging in the rain. The scarlet male trails the drab female onto a branch two feet from the porch, returning my gaze.

 

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Glimpses of a tanager, a catbird, two...

By Dave Bonta | Published May 9, 2009 at 7:51 am

Glimpses of a tanager, a catbird, two goldfinches, and a hummingbird taking a shit. Each tree is still in possession of its own green.

 

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The weird weAHHHHHHHHHHHoh calls of...

By Dave Bonta | Published June 8, 2008 at 7:57 am

The weird weAHHHHHHHHHHHoh calls of 17-year cicadas join the morning chorus for the first time. A male scarlet tanager flashes past my feet.

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