April 30: Osprey

This morning the shadow of a large bird moving through the trees manifested itself as a brown and white Osprey. It perched in a tree in the neighbor's yard, from which it could look down on the river. I think it was poised right over my husband's favorite fishing hole. The river's barely more than a stream where we live, but it serves as a wooded, watery pathway for Ospreys, eagles, and kingfishers. I never get too used to seeing them pass through my back yard.

Osprey watches the river.
It's all about positioning--
right place, right time.

April 29: Kingfisher

Didn't get outside all day until I left the office well after 6:00 pm, but was rewarded for a long day's work by a kingfisher rattling overhead. First one of the spring for me here, though I've seen some further south in Maine. He seemed to be traveling downriver. When I told my husband, he wondered aloud if the river had been stocked with fish this spring. I think he was also wondering silently if he could get outside and go fishing while there was still daylight.

Kingfisher sounds annoyed
to find the river so low.
Spring hopes realign.

April 28: Bright weekend

The most beautiful weekend of spring thus far and I spent almost the entirety of it indoors--ironically, at a land conservation conference and at a meeting of birders. The bird-y meeting took place at Colby College, and even on a sunny Sunday, a few students could be found in the halls of the science building where we met.

Tank top, shorts, sandals--
student's attire reminds me
I should be outside.

April 27: Early rising

Staying with friends who have Evening Grosbeaks coming to their bird feeders in the morning. I haven't seen Evening Grosbeaks in several years, so when I awoke early and heard them calling I got right up, even though I had planned to sleep longer. And by getting up early, I managed to catch a glimpse of the big fat golden egg of the moon setting behind the pines.

Fat moon setting

and calls of grosbeaks--

rewards for rising early.

April 26: Hayfever

Red haze of maple buds--

my body a tuning fork

for all that pollen.

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April 25: Hawks overhead

Driving to Belfast this morning, noticed several hawks flying above the Route One corridor, including some circling Broad-wings and at least one Sharpie. I apologize to anyone driving behind me while I was trying to get better looks at 50 MPH.

Driving north
following hawks up the coast.
Wish I could keep going.

April 24: Lifting rain, birdsong

Rain stopped and the sky began to clear just before sunset. One last tendril of mist floated above Rockport village. When we got home, a Ruby-crowned Kinglet was singing in the yard, its sweet, burbling little song much louder than one might expect from such a tiny bird. On a short walk before dinner we heard other birds singing: cardinal, titmouse, Song and White-throated Sparrows.

Buds on the azalea,
birdsong before dark.
My head grows clearer.

April 22: Lyrids

Tonight the Lyrid meteor shower peaks. But the waxing moon is too bright most of the night. And I'm not the kind of person who can wake before dawn, just after the moon has set, so I can freeze half-awake in the back yard waiting for stars to fall. Those wishes will have to remain unexpressed until the next shower of space dust.

In the moon-washed sky
Big Dipper spills onto our house
unseen meteors.

April 21: Inside/outside

A blue sky blue lips day, sunny but chilly. I tried to open a window so I could enjoy the spring air while I worked, which the cat seemed to appreciate, but I had to close it after a few minutes. So the cat hung out on a patch of sun behind the glass door, looking out on the front lawn, tail twitching. A squirrel came by audaciously close, and she flung herself against the door. Later, a cat wandered up the walk, and she threw herself against the door with such vigor I screamed, thinking someone was trying to break in. I shut the door, and now she's peering out from under the blinds, looking out at the dark street, waiting to respond to the next intruder.

Cat on the inside,
cat on the outside.
Restlessness of spring.

April 20: Birds in the rain

Only one other person besides me came out in the rain to join my friend Derek on his weekly Bird Walk this morning. But our all-weather persistence was well rewarded. As we walked along the wooded edges of Florida Lake in Freeport in intermittent rain, sparrows sang, a swarm of Tree Swallows flew after midges on the water's surface, peepers trilled, two Ospreys periodically swept over the water looking for fish, and hundreds of Yellow-rumped and Palm Warblers chipped and sang around us. We stood in one place for a long time, letting the music of the place wash over us, simply appreciating the moment.

They always return,
but still, a wave of spring warblers
brings such joy.

April 19: Hawk Watch

As I drove to the hawk watch on Bradbury Mountain this morning, a thick fog shrouded the coast. The radio was full of news and speculation about the Boston Marathon bombers. One had been killed in a shoot-out last night, the other on the loose. The thought of the entire city of Boston on lockdown gave me chills. 

We turned off the news, climbed up to the summit as the fog began to burn off. Birds sang in the trees--Palm and Pine Warblers, my first Brown Creeper of the spring, trilling junco. And soon, the hawks began to come. All day long they flew past. It was a thing of beauty.

Fog lifts, birds sing.

All day hawks stream northward,

a welcome distraction.