A Veery
A quiet, thrush-like bird foraging in weedy grass along the edge of a wooded area stood out brightly, impossible to miss – the smooth, pure, tawny color of its back and head seemed to glow. It was a Veery, a cool, elusive bird with a fluted, fairy-like song that I’ve rarely heard or seen – but knew immediately. It’s not a rare bird, but it’s rare for me.
Veerys nest in damp, deciduous forests in more northern parts of the U.S. and parts of Canada, and in forests in the mountains further south – but not here in the deep South, so we see them only in migration. They are known for the ethereal beauty of their songs at dusk.
When I stopped to watch, it flew up into a small tree not far away, still in full view and facing me – with pale reddish spots high on the chest, white throat and a bright white belly, and a thin eye ring that gives it a watchful look like a Hermit Thrush. After a couple of minutes, it flew back down to the ground, where it scratched around in the crumbling leaves and weeds. Then it flew again, this time further into the woods and out of sight.
This is the first time I’ve ever seen a Veery here in Summit Grove. With the Yellow Warbler from two days ago, that’s two new birds for the neighborhood this spring, a reminder that even in a year when migrants seem few and far between there still can be something new and unexpected.