For the Birds

This fall I’ve been enjoying the migrant birds in my garden. The sparrows (white-throated and song) are back and so are the yellow-rumped warblers.  Flocks of golden-crowned kinglets perch on branches and flower stalks to glean tiny insects.  They seem fearless and allow me to get quite close to them.  One day I was thrilled to observe a group of northern parulas bathing in the pond.  Amongst them was a further surprise - a lone Canada warbler identified by a dark grey necklace on its bright yellow breast.  Late-flowering plants, seed heads and berries are plentiful in my garden to feed these visitors.  However, I was alerted to a hazard for these birds when I kept on hearing the sound of dull thuds against my picture windows, from which I have beautiful view of surrounding trees looking resplendent in fall color.  But reflections of this canopy in the glass were proving to be deadly. 

So I used some specially designed bird tape from the American Bird Conservancy to prevent further collisions.  Now my windows have arrays of 3” squares of opaque tape. There is still a view from within, the birds can sense there is no way through and this arrangement is proving to be quite decorative. The squares sometimes shimmer with shadows and light.

A brown cloak in the sun

There has not been much to report these past few weeks of cruel, late winter. However, there are signs of spring besides emergent flowering bulbs. An ardent song sparrow has been sitting atop the holly bush and singing its heart out even amidst falling late winter snow. Yesterday as I looked out on the garden I spotted a large butterfly. I ran outside into the spring sunshine, camera in hand, because I knew that I had seen a mourning cloak (Nymphalis antiopa), the first of the season and a true harbinger of spring. It landed on a large stone in the sun, wings open so that its dark brown wings could absorb radiant heat from the sun. It sat there for several minutes providing me the opportunity to get a good close-up photograph. Yellow margins on the wing and azure blue iridescent spots add refinery to a somber, brown cloak. After a while the beauty took off and fluttered around me before landing again on my head! I felt a tickle in my hair and a feeling of joy. We have both come through the winter to bask in spring sunshine at last. Mourning cloaks are thought to be the longest-lived of all butterflies. Adults can live up to 10 to 11 months and most of them overwinter. Only some migrate south in the fall.

Promise of spring

Yesterday radiant heat from the sun was melting the blanket of snow and my face was warmed along with my mood. Melt water was audibly dripping revealing flowering snowdrops and crocuses in small pockets of bare earth.

Today is a dull day with snow in the forecast. But the birds are singing as fervently as ever. I’ve been observing them for the Great Backyard Bird Count. The squirrels must be hunkered down because they seem to be leaving the bird feeder alone letting the chickadees and titmice have a free run. A northern cardinal is singing high up in the holly tree. White-throated sparrows are scratching about in exposed leaf litter. A song sparrow spends some time in the safety of the cage surrounding the feeder. A furtive dark-eyed junco is hopping about beneath. A white-breasted nuthatch spirals down the trunk of an oak tree and in the distance I spot a downy woodpecker. Last but not least, the tiny Carolina wren pays a fleeting visit to round off my list.