Days ago I stepped out into the blue-gray thickness of twilight. Turkeys gobbled from beyond the stream. The drumming of scattered ruffed grouse sounded like the heartbeat of the forest, or possibly rival lawn mowers failing to start up. I suppose the obsession with lawns in some communities is a similar competition for status.

Robins began to chatter and a cardinal sang. Chickadees scolded and sang. The blaze of dawn climbed the horizon behind the spruce trees. The knocking displays of woodpeckers made the forest creak like an old house. A pileated woodpecker flew to a tree and backed down it with a jerky, bobbing motion. About chest height he hopped off, presumably to a nearby dead beech with extensive excavation curving down the trunk and fresh wood chips littering the base. Chickadees argued while a nuthatch peeped softly, disapprovingly. The chickadees followed each other like friendly cats, moving to nearby branches as if a chase wasn’t their purpose.


[Wild leeks]

Wild leeks are raising a flag to celebrate spring. New greenery has been a long time coming, with the snow cover clinging to the bitter, sunny end. Finally hepaticas are blooming, at first in pale, secretive clusters that multiplied and brightened overnight. Exotic coltsfoot dots the lawn like dwarf dandelions while purple crocuses stand bright and (relatively) tall in a bed with one little outlier beginning a lawn invasion. Minute fields of trout lily leaves have sprung up and tree buds are finally bursting into flowers.


[Hepatica]

A robin pair already has a nest under construction near the house. The other day I watched as the female flew up to the structure and moved around in the developing cup, using her body as a caliper. More phoebes have come after several days of silence, but I fear these will also reject our little compound. The old nest location at grandma’s house was on a wall above the first story roof, which is now accessible to her cats. I only hope they can find a site nearby this year.


[Robin nest, using zoom lens]