Birding With Friends Honorable Mention
I appeared in my circle on Sunday morning before church. It was 7:30 on May 17, and I was hearing warblers. My brother figured I was listening to Yellow-rumped Warblers, and I took his word for it. Several times I tried catching them in a picture, but to no avail. For whenever I went to take the picture, the warbler would always flit out of my view, and I finally gave up.
My little sister and I intently watched the Baltimore Orioles searching for food in the trees. Catbirds and robins sang and pecked on the shady turf. A Downy Woodpecker flew overhead, and a Red-bellied Woodpecker hammered its way from tree to tree. Canada Geese landed on the neighbors’ pond, and a Killdeer wailed its name from the garden. A Pileated Woodpecker screamed in the distance, while House Sparrows scolded and Song Sparrows trilled. Then I was called into the house to get ready for church.
After a hearty Sunday dinner, I hurried back out to my circle. The warbler was trilling right overhead, but I knew it was useless to try to find a warbler when the leaves were fully out, so I contented myself with just sitting and listening.
Suddenly the song became unbearably loud—right in my ear. I peered at the branches and nudged the swing back just a tad to see better. There! Slowly I reached for my camera and drew the bird up in my viewfinder. I clicked my picture, and then my eyes dropped involuntarily to the front cover of the May Nature Friend lying beside me. I gaped. This was no Yellow-rumped Warbler! I had seen the same species of warbler that was on the front cover of Nature Friend. But I couldn’t quite put a name to it, so I flipped inside the front cover of the magazine. Chestnut-sided Warbler! Snatching up the magazine, I bolted inside.
When I came back out, the warbler was singing deep in the woods. No wonder! I’d probably scared it half to death, shooting out of the swing like a bullet!
Things had really quieted down now, so I walked around in my circle a little bit with my youngest sister I took my camera with me and snapped some nice pictures of the orioles, while listening to Eastern Wood-Pewees wail their sad song. We plopped down on the swing and heard the warbler again. Then I heard the rattling song that had become quite common during the past few days. In my mind, I wondered what the bird was, but I didn’t say anything.
“Grackle,” suggested one sister, but I didn’t agree.
Then I saw it—a flutter of brown. I grabbed the camera, but it was gone. Just then it suddenly sounded beside us, right above our heads. Again it flew, two this time, to the trees on the other side of our lane. This was still in my circle, so I pounded down there with my little sisters in tow. Just as I whipped up my camera, they flew again, this time too far for me to follow. But I had seen enough to figure out that it was a species of flycatcher.
After settling ourselves back on the swing, my sister came out with our Lyrics. I played the songs, but nothing lined up. Then I opened my Crossley ID Guide to the Great Crested Flycatcher. A picture of one flying caught my eye. Yes, it looked the same. That was a fun species to add to my list.
Since it was afternoon, there was almost no bird activity right then. A White-breasted Nuthatch whizzed past and landed on a tree trunk nearby. Then I left my circle for the time being and disappeared into the house.
Later that evening I appeared again. Since there were no new birds I hadn’t seen or heard already, I gathered all my paraphernalia and trotted into the house for the night.
Next morning I reappeared in my circle. The bird choir was extremely loud. A Carolina Wren caroled in the neighbors’ woods, and Chipping Sparrows hopped about on the roof of our house.
Idly I watched a male oriole land on a branch in front of me. Then my eyes popped open. Its beak was full of nesting material! It flew into the tree right beside me, the nesting material floating behind it like a banner. Slyly I crept to the edge of my circle. Sure enough, there it was, weaving its nest on a low-hanging branch!
Trying to take more pictures of the warbler proved impossible, so I had to content myself with taking pictures of the orioles’ nest. As I reached for my camera, I spied an Eastern Bluebird sneaking into its nesting box with food for its babies. Just as I snapped my picture of the oriole’s nest, I realized that my twenty-four hour period was up.
As I turned my steps toward the house, I thanked God for sending me sparkling little gems in the form of orioles and warblers.