Red-eyed vireo.The leaves may still be green, and the insects in full voice. The bluebirds are still feeding nestlings, the meadow is still dotted with blooming wildflowers, and the kids have yet to head back to school, but the seasons are changing.
I was up very early this morning—before light—and when I stepped outside, the still morning darkness was broken ever so slightly by the Morse code of migrant birds overhead, whispering their contact calls to their fellow travelers.
Nashville warbler.I'm sure there were thrushes, and some sparrows, perhaps a vireo or two. And I'm positive I heard a warbler. I wish I knew these small, little-heard vocalizations better.
Dawn arrived yet none of the passerines dropped into our trees. So the mystery lingers. But tomorrow is another day with another dawn. And I plan to be up and out and listening expectantly in the darkness.
