Overcast and cold. A phoebe hawking insects from the lilac does far less flying than sitting, tail bobbing with what probably only looks like impatience.
May 2025
May 23, 2025
Mostly cloudy with a cold wind. Several ravens are having a noisy conclave in the treetops, their high, harsh vocals bringing in a pair of crows, who offer commentary from a safe distance.
May 22, 2025
Birds still singing in a downpour: scarlet tanager, common yellowthroat, Acadian flycatcher, great-crested flycatcher… Fronds of bracken tremble as if readying for flight.
May 21, 2025
It’s been raining for hours, drumming on the leaves and dripping from the furred tongues of irises, which sway ever so slightly on their tall stalks.
May 20, 2025
Cold and mostly clear. Barely audible above the red-eyed vireos and scarlet tanager, the minor-key call of a titmouse—that wintry sound.
May 19, 2025
Breezy and cool. A pileated woodpecker hops along a log fallen into the meadow, her scarlet crest bobbing among the dames’-rocket.
May 18, 2025
In warbler season, even the wheezing of the wind seems open for interpretation: green-winged or oak-throated? The sky is achingly clear between the clouds.
May 17, 2025
A clearing wind. The wood thrush comes into the yard to sing as blue sky appears. The aspen I planted last year is already big enough to mime applause.
May 16, 2025
Listening for thunder, I hear warblers, flycatchers, vireos, a tanager. The rumble of a freight train. And finally, as I’m writing this, some thunder, off to the east.
May 15, 2025
A damp and foggy morning. From the woods’ edge, the high, whispery notes of a bay-breasted warbler, here merely to forage on his way to the far north. A catbird launches into a solo.
May 14, 2025
Rain tapering off by mid-morning. I’m still entranced by the intense green of the trees, now supplemented by white clusters of black cherry blossoms and brown clusters of red maple keys.
May 13, 2025
Warm rain. The hollow echoes with pileated woodpecker drumming and the REEP, REEP calls of great-crested flycatchers. In the yard, an American redstart is singing one of his least forgettable songs.
May 12, 2025
We’re approaching full leaf-out, and I’m still not bored of watching the simple play of sun and shadows. And how many red-eyed vireos are within earshot? I count five.
May 11, 2025
A few clouds at sunrise. Goldfinches chatter over the rap battles of ovenbirds and vireos. Bracken leaves are still opening in the yard—feathers on feathers.