![]() So, if you have that map of the Americas in your mind, you can imagine the winter range of the wood thrush by shading in parts of southern Texas and all of Central America to the southern border of Panama.īefore I started graduate school, I worked for the US Forest Service at UMass Amherst, and part of my time there was spent researching for a book on Neotropical migrants. Wood thrushes are described as Neotropical migrants, which is a group of birds that breed in North America and spend the northern winter in Central America, South America, the Caribbean and Mexico (which is technically part of North America). This was the perfect response and I capitalized on the opportunity with my camera. He was all jacked up with indignant fury that any competitor would dare invade the heart of his territory that he was willing to ignore me in an effort to locate and engage the enemy. His song was so loud that I could easily understand why I could regularly hear him from the deck back at the house. The response was instantaneous and energetic.Ī beautiful bird with a cinnamon-colored head, a white breast covered in small black spots and wings and tail feathers the color of dark rust-brown came zooming out of the underbrush as though he had been shot out of a cannon. Thinking I might be able to provoke a response, I took my cell phone out of my pocket and played a recording of this species’ song. I was able to move quietly into a spot with some dense, low vegetation and it was here that the bird was singing up a storm. One male was quite close, so I decided to abandon the Thinking Chair and enter the forest itself along a trail that I have established. Complex, beautiful and completely beyond the ability of any human to reproduce, the song of the wood thrush has been described as if the bird was saying, “Eeee-oh-lay!”Ĭreative, but it does not do justice to the sound made by the bird. I was also able to hear the songs of some forest birds in the woods behind me and among those songs, I found one particular voice to be the most beautiful of all the voice of a male wood thrush. ![]() I only ended up taking a few photos that day, but I did spend a lot of time listening to the songs of the different birds of the meadow. Would they remember me after such a long absence? Yes! In less than two minutes after my arrival, the chickadees were back. Last year, I had chickadees and white-breasted nuthatches landing on my head and shoulders by the end of the summer. I have installed a small feeding platform near the Thinking Chair where I can place a handful of seeds for the little birds. When the only time to visit such places comes on weekends, you are at the mercy of the weather and compulsory social engagements.Īs a result, you simply may not have the chance to relax outside at home.Īnyway, this visit to the edge of my meadow turned out to be utterly delightful. A long and rainy April (we even had some late snow to contend with) and a busy month of May resulted in little opportunity to get down to this favorite spot of mine. ![]() In the spirit of full disclosure, I feel compelled to admit, to my great shame, that this was my first visit to the Thinking Chair all year. In the past few years, I have taken to calling this my “Thinking Chair” and I have spent hours and hours down there taking photographs of birds and allowing my quiet mind to wander in search of creative inspiration. Positioned in such a way that allows me to look northward, I can see the bowl-shaped meadow and the hillside upon which my house stands. June 13 was a spectacular Sunday and I decided to celebrate the occasion by heading down to an Adirondack chair positioned at the southern edge of the wet meadow behind my house.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |