Common Birds 75 - Rose-Breasted Grosbeak
Monday, April 29
Today is a perfect spring day. Last week, I waited by the pond, listening for the migrating birds to return. I heard chickadees and goldfinches, but no warblers. I scared turtles off of a log and tried to stay still enough for them to return. A few did. I saw two green herons. I’d only seen one once before. It was flying and I was driving. Getting a good look, I saw they’re much smaller than I imagined. That same day, an osprey dove straight into the center of the pond and came up empty. I loved all of this, but today is the spring day I’ve been waiting and listening for.
While I am still in the parking lot, I hear the trill of a warbling vireo, and see two of them in the trees - small, drab, yellow-olive birds. Hearing the vireos feels like home, reminding me of the long days of summer in Potsdam, walking along the wide, slow Raquette River. I catch a gray catbird chatting away, and I hear the song of a rose-breasted grosbeak over the outlet of the cattails, where they love to sing. I saw only one grosbeak before moving to Massachusetts, walking with my wife before we were married. We saw the brilliant black, white, and deep red bird before I knew what it was. I asked my mom and she asked my mamaw. Last spring and summer, they blew me away with their sheer abundance here, and now they will always remind me of another walk with my wife, just before our son was born. We stopped for a rest on a stone bench and a male rose-breasted grosbeak landed on a stone across the path from us and sang into the evening. Hoping to see this one, I head for the outlet of the cattails.
On the way there, I see a palm warbler - the first warbler I’ve seen at work this spring! It is a rich yellow. It’s cap looks as if someone dipped their thumb in blood, and pressed the red into the warbler's crown feathers. I watch and it wags its tail. Another (or maybe one of the same ones from last week) green heron peers at me through the cattails. I look up and see the grosbeak, beautiful black, white, and redist red, singing in the morning sun - everything I have been longing for.
