pee ah-wee

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Hot. 

Quiet. 

Mid-June. 

The closing days of spring and the mad rush to nest, to family up, is winding down.

The lone bird singing above the house is the eastern wood pewee. 

Pee ah-wee. 

It probably has been here all along, but drowned out by more strident songsters. 

Wispy. Pee ah-weeeeeee. The books call it mournful.  Perhaps it is. But why so? 

Listed as common and widespread throughout eastern forests—oaks, hickories, maples, etc.—its population is believed to be in decline because of all things, the increased numbers of white-tailed deer that munch on the forests' understory, the pewee's preferred habitat. 

Perhaps that's the melancholia of its song, although I prefer to think of it as wistful. Me oh-myyyyy. Sliding wistfully into summer.


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