The light this morning is so crystalline, the new leaves so intensely green, it’s no surprise to hear the year’s first oriole—that song.
Tuesday May 11, 2021
Breezy and cool. Patches of blue sky begin to appear. The birds are relatively quiet—probably too busy eating after a cold night.
Monday May 10, 2021
The stream is quieter than I would’ve thought after so much rain. The sun comes out, and the one ant tending to a peony bud moves her antennae.
Sunday May 09, 2021
The rain arrives just about at church time, hard, steady, drowning out all other sound. Only the big mullein leaves still look dry.
Saturday May 08, 2021
A mid-morning pause in the rain. The towhee attacks a catbird gathering dead grass under the lilac, driving it off, then sings in triumph.
Friday May 07, 2021
Cold and overcast. Through a gap in the leaves I spot an azalea half-way up the hill, its pink deepening as the sun peeks out.
Thursday May 06, 2021
Goldfinches, scarlet tanager, great-crested flycatcher, catbird, towhee… no composer, no conductor. All music needs is a listener.
Wednesday May 05, 2021
Agog at the intense green of a deciduous forest at leaf-out in the rain. The soundtrack: wood thrush, red-eyed vireo, least flycatcher.
Tuesday May 04, 2021
Sun! A female hummingbird alights on a twig and a male begins rocketing back and forth in front of her. A cuckoo calls from the powerline.
Monday May 03, 2021
Light rain. The catbird lands on a branch with nesting material in his beak, which all falls out when he goes to sing.