Common Birds 44 - Carolina Wren II

Wednesday, September 13

The glorious days of paternity leave are fading to dusk. I’m trying to convince myself that working part time is a great way to ease back into things and not just the (frustrating) reality of my company’s leave policy. 

For the wider world, Fall migration came. I didn’t notice until Sunday. In the Spring, I poured over the landscape for any hints of change. I watched the hooded mergansers leave and the phoebes and flycatchers arrive. I noticed when the palm warblers and yellow-rumped warblers of early Spring were replaced by yellow warblers and redstarts of late Spring. I saw the slow unfolding of palm fronds and the sudden unfurling of millions of new leaves. 

The other day I saw some goldenrod and thought, Isn’t it a little early for goldenrod? and was then blown away by the fact of September.  

But on Sunday migration came to me. Amelia, our son, and I were sitting next to a parking lot outside of the Woburn Shake Shack. Our boy was sleeping, and life was beautiful. I watched a bird circle low in the parking lot. I thought it was a tree swallow who got lost. Then it pulled out of a circle and slammed right into the window next to us. I gasped in horror. Amelia quickly realized the magnitude of the situation and searched to find the bird so she could assure me it was okay. I saw it on the ground, standing on the ground. It had a drab-olive back with yellow flashes on its wings and tail: a female American redstart. And she was okay. She picked herself up and flew on.

Later, I thought about her heading south. Over the summer, she’d built a nest, laid eggs, and reared her young. Now that Fall is here, she’s heading down to the Caribbean or somewhere in Central or South America. Frankly, that sounds exhausting but I hope she can see it as a vacation.

Over the summer, we built a crib, had our boy, and raised him just a little. Now that it’s September, we’re heading back to working full time, which also sounds exhausting.

But I’m trying to stay where I’m at. Work’s coming, but not yet. Our son is still ours for the day, not daycare’s. And now, I’m watching two Carolina wrens weaving in and out of a chain link fence next to a parking lot. One of them still seems young, standing on top of the fence and crying. The little wren is growing up and leaving home, too.

But there I go, leaving this time behind.

Right now, I’m enjoying the wrens.