Late Summer Morning
Sunrise, mid September. A quiet sky, faint orange in the east and a clear, pale, blue-gray light that gradually gains color behind and through the trees that surround our back yard, turning them green and greener. Crickets and other insects chirp. Northern Cardinals peep, hidden among the shrubs near the ground. The air feels warm, humid, and very still. The leaves of the oaks seem barely to breathe.
At this time of year, the morning chorus of birds is much more subtle than just a few weeks ago. It often seems for long moments that birds have completely disappeared. But in fact, there’s still a great deal going on. And I love especially to listen for the elusive songs and calls we’ll only hear for a little while longer, before summer birds leave us to fly further South.
An Acadian Flycatcher, somewhere way down in the trees toward the creek, calls a small, needle-sharp wheet! A Blue-gray Gnatcatcher whispers spee-spee from around the edges of the woods. A Northern Parula lisps a buzzy, lilting song as it moves through the treetops. A Red-eyed Vireo whines a plaintive call. A Summer Tanager’s soft, percussive pik-a-tuk traces its sheltered path through lower branches, near where the berries on a large wild dogwood are beginning to turn red.
Suddenly, the bold, brilliant song of a Carolina Wren brings a burst of color, followed by the trill of another Carolina Wren, and the answering song of a third. With a thrumming hum and bright twitter, a Ruby-throated Hummingbird hovers outside the screen for a moment, looking in, then zips to the feeder that hangs from the deck.
By this time, several of our year-round birds are also chattering, chipping, cheeping, fussing, tapping and rattling – Carolina Chickadees and Tufted Titmice, Brown-headed and White-breasted Nuthatches, Red-bellied, Downy and even a Hairy Woodpecker with its emphatic peenk! and rolling, ringing rattle. An Eastern Bluebird warbles a very few sleepy-sounding notes. American Crows caw in the distance. The kee-yer calls of two Red-shouldered Hawks circle low overhead, climbing higher.