Cedar waxwings.
About 4 a.m., the dog alerted me to a commotion in the bathroom. I flipped on the light and—after hesitating for a couple seconds—drew open the shower curtain. Cat and mouse in bathtub. The mouse that steals my soap, and the cat that’s never bothered to interfere before now. I grabbed the cat and hauled her out, the dog chased her down the hall, and the mouse escaped to steal my soap again.
Dawn broke over a chilly brown landscape, with temperatures yet hovering near freezing. The cardinal started singing early—he’s master of this particular corner of the earth—and so did the titmouse up the hill, amid the usual cawing of crows.
Icicles.
When I took the dog out first thing, I grabbed my camera. Got a single shot of the cardinal, watched a number of robins—paired males and females—hop about the yard next door—and suddenly heard the sibilant notes of waxwings. Sure enough, a half dozen or so flitted down into the leafless understory up the hill. Cedar waxwings. As I snapped a series of photos of the waxwing gang, the robins hopped around the semi-icy next-door lawn, and across the road a house finch serenaded the neighborhood.
At mid-morning, dog and I headed up Beech Hill. Films of ice yet encrusted the edges of runoff puddles—remnants of the recent snowmelt and general sogginess of things. A sign of the season. Despite the dry look of the trail, my shoes slipped a number of times, leaving great muddy skid marks. Foot- and paw prints of others riddled the trail. At this latitude, spring doesn’t bust out right away, as it does down south. There’s a period of potential energy, of buds expanding, of small powers building, of subtle pressing, puffing, stretching, rising. A period of waiting for the late-April, early-May explosion. We’re in that period now. We call it Mud Season.
You could see the tight little buds on the plants of the hill. A morning sun shone, but the wind was brisk and cold. Icicles hung from the eaves of Beech Nut. Descending, I could help but notice a flock of clouds moving in from the west.
On the trip home, sparrows flitted about the roadsides as they’ve been doing for about the past week or so. The rest of the day: mostly cloudy with a 100 percent chance of crows.
Today’s List
Northern cardinal
American crow
Tufted titmouse
American robin
House finch
Song sparrow
Black-capped chickadee
Cedar waxwing
Herring gull
Ring-billed gull
American crow.
Tags: American crow, American robin, black-capped chickadee, Cedar waxwing, herring gull, house finch, northern cardinal, ring-billed gull, song sparrow, tufted titmouse
