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a visitor from South America
At Day 52, we are still playing it safe. Being watchful. Mindful. No need to rush into things, maybe a second cup of coffee.
Moments like this are memorable. We hold onto them, rolling them over in your minds. Wow! That was just a perfect.
Staring up into the canopy this morning, sipping my cooling coffee, I saw it briefly. A tiny bird. Small pointy beak. Warbler? Maybe, but which one? I keep the binoculars nearby for just such chance encounters and found the little passerine quickly and followed its foraging branch to branch. We played peek-a-boo.
Is that chestnut along its flank under the wings and two thick white wing bars? And look on the side of its neck, a large light spot surrounded by a dark head. Could it really be?
Grabbing my Peterson's to confirm, yes there it is. A species I rarely see, considered uncommon in our state.
This Bay-breasted Warble is a long-distance migrant. Most years they probably fly over Tennessee on their way from the northern countries in South America to their breeding grounds in the boreal forests of Canada. Now that's a flight, 1800 maybe 2000 miles. Perhaps, Colombia or Venezuela to here is only halfway. And it just stopped by my woodland to grab a meal of caterpillars before it completes its journey. How do they do that?
Godspeed, John Glenn.
Now, that is a mindful moment.
Ob-la-de, ob-la-da.
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Staring up into the canopy this morning, sipping my cooling coffee, I saw it briefly. A tiny bird. Small pointy beak. Warbler? Maybe, but which one? I keep the binoculars nearby for just such chance encounters and found the little passerine quickly and followed its foraging branch to branch. We played peek-a-boo.
Is that chestnut along its flank under the wings and two thick white wing bars? And look on the side of its neck, a large light spot surrounded by a dark head. Could it really be?
This Bay-breasted Warble is a long-distance migrant. Most years they probably fly over Tennessee on their way from the northern countries in South America to their breeding grounds in the boreal forests of Canada. Now that's a flight, 1800 maybe 2000 miles. Perhaps, Colombia or Venezuela to here is only halfway. And it just stopped by my woodland to grab a meal of caterpillars before it completes its journey. How do they do that?
Godspeed, John Glenn.
Now, that is a mindful moment.
Ob-la-de, ob-la-da.
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