Waiting

 

Morning and evening, all of March, out before dawn and again in the thickening dark-after-dusk.

Listening.

Waiting.

Mentally cursing the endless, noisy traffic that drowns out all but the loudest sounds.

No voices raised in discordant courtship. No whistling feather-tweets of love.

Until this morning.

There was dog walking and an early Song Sparrow, commencing Dawn Chorus with a song.

Put the dog inside and sneaked back out, just for a little while.

Venus hovered on the eastern horizon as she has for lo, these many weeks. Grey clouds crept across a sinking orange moon and gathered it into the coming storm.

But hark! What twitters in the eastern sky!

The first American Woodcock of the season, proclaiming his love for all to listen.

I rejoiced at this magical note of spring, then gathered my coffee from the kitchen and sat in my outdoor office for an hour, listening for the day to begin. (Office consists of a metal lawn chair, an upturned stainless steel milk house bucket as a footstool, and something to set my coffee cup on, pointed at the best spots to see or hear birds).

It's official. Spring is really here.

Timberdoodle

Sharp-shinned Hawk

I guess I'm kind of a competitive birder. It's fun to treasure hunt. Birds are treasures that are right there for anyone who is interested in seeing...and counting.... them.

Back when we had cows the heifer pasture was home to American Woodcocks. The grass was kept short by grazing and the little pond where the horses were pastured was just what the doctor ordered for timberdoodles..... a bucolic nickname for the American Woodcock, fat little shorebirds that love earthworms. They are famous for their spectacular mating displays. I had never heard of them until I read A Sand County Almanac in college, nor seen one until years later. It sure was fun to have them on the farm.

Nowadays the horses no long use that pasture and only the two old cows, Bama and Moon, graze the heifer pasture. The grass has become too long for tiny woodcock legs so we haven't heard their buzzy peenting or their magical sky dance in years. Hadn't counted one for eBird either, but I sure wanted to.

A little under a week ago someone reported one in a spot where we bird all the time, so last night right after supper and just about nightfall we drove there and parked the car.

And listened.

And listened. Not a peep. Not a twitter. Darn it. The boss moved the car several times hoping to hear the bird.

Then to my utter amazement one flew right past where we were parked, fluttering by about a foot from the windshield. Even at night I got a great look.

Awesome. County bird number 77 for the year.

This morning #78 (see above) landed on the ground by the feeder and let me take several photos before he flew off.

I'd been noticing that no birds were coming in....guess now we know the rest of the story.

Redheads

Mud-lucious

And puddle-wonderful. The woodcock is back. I had been staying out after chores every night, leaning on the car hood and listening. It is so sweet out there when it finally warms up enough to BE out there...to listen, smell, savor the arrival of spring with all it brings. Ducks shuttle by unseen, but clearly heard, and geese are back on the river. No woodcock though.

No peent.

No wingy whistle turning the empty night into a whirl of wonderful music.

Then yesterday morning, just as I stepped onto the back porch in the still dark, not morning yet except by government time change standards , I heard him.....close too. I wonder if he moved his peenting grounds or if it was just so quiet that he sounded closer than other years.

He usually starts his sky dance up by the horse pasture pond. This year it sounds as if he is right down under the apple trees by the garden. He showed up on the 15th last year and the 27th in 08
March 29th in 07 but not until April in 06

Another waited for event had taken place as well. When I got to the barn in reindeer bathrobe, barn coat. and high rubber boots, Armada had finally had her first calf, another amazing red surprise, but, alas a bull. She was feeling sorry for herself and wouldn't even try to stand up so I came back to the house to get the boss to give her a bottle of calcium, which perked her right up. I CAN give bottles if I have to, but she was lying half under another heifer and I thought that someone bigger, stronger and with longer arms was called for. Both baby and mama are fine btw...

I am so grateful she finally got around to having him. She was due the 13th. We started doing barn checks a couple times a night about a week before she was due to calve....which adds up to a lot of 0-dark-thirty walks to the barn...in the mud...which is actually drying up just a tad.

Although E. E. Cummings found mud to to be a source of inspiration and delight, I personally find it to require me to sweep the kitchen floor about fifteen times a day in a cycle of endless futility, unquenched by ceaseless boot scraping..the outdoors just wants to come indoors during mud season.

**The photos above are an update of things at the pond in Lykers...still pretty frosty and not much around but a few chickadees. Just a few weeks and that will change.