On a recent morning, the whistling rattle-scratch song of a male orchard oriole cascaded down from the black willow tree on top of our hill. We've had orchard orioles nest on the farm here once or twice before, and we're keeping our fingers crossed for more luck this year.
He sang and sang, calling out to a female who was not there—at least not yet.
The next morning there was no oriole song. I listened throughout the day, hoping he was still around. Maybe he was just quiet, having found his gal. Or maybe he'd moved on to another place, on another hill, with another tall, leafy tree.
Before he left, the male oriole flew to the dead ash tree, singing still. But with the sun in my eyes, he looked like a mere shadow of his former self.
7 comments:
I heard him singing Sunday morning about 9:45 AM. Cross your fingers for a hanging nest and little green babies in the garden this year. I love your pictures.
Great shot, especially the one in the dead ash. I love it!
I love orchard orioles. I don't get to see them often, but when I do it's always a thrill.
There. He sang all day Sunday. Keep hoping,love.
All fingers and toes crossed. Even my eyes are crossed.
In light or in shadow, I love those pictures of birds with their little heads lifted in song. I hope your bird keeps singing...
Bird silhouettes aren't always great but this one is the best I've seen. It's wonderful.
I hope they nest nearby!
Post a Comment