First come jubilant skeins of of geese flying in from the south and singing their return, then ducks splashing about in the melted alcoves of local rivers and streams. There is a lot of happy quacking in roadside ditches and puddles.
A single heron perches on the frozen shore of Dalhousie Lake and wonders why on earth she has come home so early in the season. Trumpeter swans and loons will not return for weeks, until there is more open water.
On the Two Hundred Acre Wood, there are larks and killdeer, beaky snipe and woodcock, a handful of plucky robins, the graceful "v" shapes (dihedrals) of turkey vultures soaring majestically over the trees and rocks and rocking effortlessly back and forth in their flight. From below, the light catches their silvery flight feathers and dark wing linings, and the great birds are as magnificent as any eagle.
A solitary goshawk perches in a bare tree on the hill, and a male harrier describes perfect, languid circles over the western field. Both birds are hungry after their long journey north, and they train their fierce yellow eyes on the artfully frosted field below, always on the lookout for a good meal.
This morning, a male cardinal is singing his heart out in the ash tree in the garden, and an unidentified warbler lifts its voice somewhere in the darkness.
Even the weather foretold for this day will be a friend.
Happy April, everyone!
3 comments:
It’s always such a pleasure to return to your daily musings after a long absence…. Thank you for your steady presence, so richly where you are.
I challenge you to write so beautifully about the waking of the woodticks! Heh.
I wish I had been walking with you and Beau on this ramble. Now that April has arrived, I'm certain we'll be seeing more of Lady Spring. You've given turkey vultures a description that stopped my mind.
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