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A dark shape catches my eye when first I look to the pond this morning: a double-crested cormorant shaking out its wings. This is the first day for cormorants: three of them, in fact, have visited -- two of these soon fly away.
But a third bird stays, patrols the far wide expense of quarry pond, sailing east, sailing west, exposing its alluring profile. An occasional gull shows up nearby. I'm growing slightly tired of the sunless, gray-cloudy nature of the days, these days. It's not too wet, at least. The ringneck -- if it's the same duck as yesterday -- has taken up with a female and is frequenting the far side of the pond, below the precipitous cliff there. Blackbirds fly over occasionally, along with one or two mourning doves. The cormorant patrols like a submarine, diving occasionally. I wonder about the fishing. Low and gray, clouds drift along. A north wind makes ripples on the pond's surface. The temperature, again, barely reaches 40 (F). Night falls without fanfare. It's the first day of Daylight Savings Time, but I didn't even notice the later evening. Tonight, downstairs, the cat presents another house mouse. Philosophically, I clean up a little remnant blood. Outside, it's breezy and 38 degrees. |
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| Bird Report is a discursive daily record of what's outside my high north window in Rockland, Maine, USA (44°07'N latitude, 69°07'W longitude). --Brian Willson | |||||
©1998 by 3IP |