The yellowthroat’s song is half submerged in noise from the quarry. A heron flies over. I watch my breath drift away toward the east.
common yellowthroat
Thursday July 09, 2015
Red-eyed vireo, common yellowthroat, indigo bunting: the primary colors of this morning’s diminished chorus. The dog twitches in her sleep.
Thursday April 30, 2015
A masked bird skulks through the lilac: the first common yellowthroat. Clouds gather, and the shadbush blossoms disappear into the sky.
Friday August 22, 2014
A trembling in the cattails: female yellowthroat. Birds flit through the treetops, smaller than the motes of grit in my ancient binoculars.
Tuesday May 01, 2012
An hour past sunrise. The downpour past, a Carolina wren and a common yellowthroat both sing in fast waltz time.
Wednesday April 27, 2011
A song so familiar it takes several minutes to register that this is new, the first I’ve heard it since last fall: common yellowthroat.
Tuesday June 15, 2010
A male yellowthroat flies from perch to perch without singing. It occurs to me that most of the music in my life wasn’t made for human ears.
Wednesday July 22, 2009
Wednesday June 17, 2009
Sunday July 06, 2008
The yellowthroat’s witchedywitchedywitchedy woke me at dawn. Now he sits silent on a curved claw of dead elm, insouciant in his black mask.