Listening to the birds....

May 17, 2025 

on a mild morning, earlier in the week, from the verandah.

Daylight is very, very dim at 4:30 AM, Whip-poor-will is still calling over to the west, a Barred owl made a final sign-off “who cooks for you?”, in the bush to the east. The Robins are definitely the earliest risers, and they are calling the world awake, starting practically in darkness, but by 6, they've eased off on their calling, as if it was their job to awaken the world and once the other birds pitch in, their job is done.

Gradually, other birds take up the task, notably the Wood thrush, Hermit thrush, the odd note from a Swainson's thrush, the sharp “zyou”calls from a Veery, newly arrived and not yet ready to make it's lovely, ethereal flutey calls. All of the thrushes, are definitely early risers.

Over all, on this mild morning, I can hear the steady trilling of toads all around, but they also ease off their calling as daylight grows. Song sparrow is making his rounds now, from a perch on favourite high branches around the clearing, to the top of the pyramidal cedar right in front of me. His introductory notes tell me to “pay attention!”, followed by notes of fluid happiness, his little beak pointing skyward. The proximity of his singing (less than 10ft, separated only by a screen), punctuates all the other songs around. He makes a few calls, then heads off to the next stop on his rounds. 

White-throated sparrows are adding their pure, clear notes. Ruffed Grouse did some drumming, and as daylight grows stronger, the trilling Chipping sparrow and melodious Rose-breasted grosbeak add their notes. Of to the southwest, not too far away, a Yellow-bellied sapsucker smacks out a couple of rapid bursts of tapping, as if not wanting to be left out. Ditto with the Blue jays, who let out the odd squawk, as if in protest to all the avian voices that have been added to their previous, relatively quiet existence. Now the vireos pitch in, Red-eyed and Blue headed, and then warblers, with various degrees of volume in their voices, and without the help of Merlin, (the screen flashing up bird after bird), very difficult for me to suss out each one. American Redstart, Chestnut-sided, Yellow, Yellow rump, Black and white, Blackburnian, Cape May, Nashville, American Redstart, and the steady “teacher, teacher, teacher” call of Oven birds. (Still awaiting the Mourning warbler, a summer regular here.)

Later in the morning, a pair of Catbirds were checking out the yard, calling from the crab apple tree beside the house, which seems to be a magnet for any variety of bird, perhaps because it's leaves are always the first of any tree around, to enrobe the tree and obscure the songsters. He then hid out in the lilac bush, sang his repertoire of calls, with the inevitable "mew" at the end, giving himself away. At one point he was perched right up on the tallest branch of the crab-apple tree, and I went upstairs to get a more 'eye-level' view.

Later still, in the morning, I was out preparing planting holes for baby trees, and heard the Great Crested Flycatcher for the first time this spring. Around noon, a Baltimore oriole arrived, a brilliant orange exclamation mark against the growing greenness, making a bee-line for the feeder, and contorting himself around it's hanging wire with the agility of a monkey.

There are at least 4 male Ruby-throated hummingbirds, jostling for supremacy at the feeder, their constant sparring leaving little time for more than a quick sip before the spats continue. There is at least one small female, who actually perches on the fake flower over a nectar orifice on the feeder as she sips. The tiny birds love to take refuge in the lilac bush, and there is a regular pendulum dance over the bush by one or another of the male birds. I'm sure the Hummers nest in there as well.

The female Tree swallow is busy collecting up bits of old, dry grass along the edge of the driveway, and ferrying them to the nest box while the male watches from nearby perches. She is tireless with her countless trips. The Bluebird pair seems to have moved on, after showing so much interest in the nest box. A Scarlet tanager calls from the bush around the edge. So many birds seem drawn to all the 'edge' habitat around our oasis in the bush.

 In other activities, I went morel hunting...

and found them just poking up through last fall's matted leaves. (The green leaves are tiny, new ones, just unfurled.)

We travelled south and visited a friend who's property happens to be in a beautiful deciduous bush where spring ephemerals  grow in abundance, as well as wild leeks, a 'must have' taste of spring for me. 

We found trilliums in full, fresh bloom.

Here and there was a bloom with a green stripe, which is caused by a bacterial parasite that inhibits the plant from producing healthy flowers and seeds.

 Here was a pretty tableau, tiny Mitrewort flowers beautifying a tree trunk with a supporting cast of leek leaves.

Back at home, my plum trees are blooming...

and tiny Red maple keys are hanging where all the blooms were earlier. A misty, soft morning with the early sun shining through the keys gave them a soft rosy glow.

Strawberries are blooming everywhere!

And a Barred Owl in the moonlight! (click on the picture to get a better look.)

 

And just this morning, as the apple blossoms start to really open, a small flight of Cedar Waxwings are here, flying in like a formation of little fighter jets to eat the apple blossoms, their sharp, elongated squeaks giving their location away up in the branches.