Overcast and cold. I watch a gnatcatcher in action, its chirp after each snap. The wood thrush makes a circuit of the yard trees, singing.
Plummer’s Hollow
Monday May 13, 2019
Cold rain; the treetops disappearing into cloud. A Carolina wren lands on the railing with a beak full of leaves and a self-important air.
Sunday May 12, 2019
A flock of warblers at the woods’ edge in the pouring rain: flashes of redstart, cerulean, black-and-white. A singing black-throated green.
Saturday May 11, 2019
Mingling with bird calls, the distant, excited cries of small children. The woods glow green. A hummingbird buzzes in to the bleeding-heart.
Friday May 10, 2019
Humid. A dark cloud comes in, and the tin roof over the oil tanks rattles for 15 seconds—not even enough raindrops to rinse the pollen off.
Thursday May 09, 2019
Singers change with the weather: in the mist, wood thrush and cerulean warbler. Scarlet tanager in the drizzle. Indigo bunting in the rain.
Wednesday May 08, 2019
Sunny and cool. My lily-of-the-valley bed is in full bloom—an exclusive, be-jeweleried crowd wearing the scent of nearby cypress spurge.
Tuesday May 07, 2019
The cardinal attacks his reflection then sings in triumph. The Cooper’s hawk skulks out of the woods like a ninja. Today I’m the cardinal.
Monday May 06, 2019
Young leaves in strong sun—an intense green. From the neighbors’, the muffled thump-thump of subwoofers, as if the hollow has a heartbeat.
Sunday May 05, 2019
Rain. A black birch at the woods’ edge may regret its timing, shaggy orange catkins making it look like the most Victorian of lampshades.