Like a Tiny Water Bottle Being Filled

Yesterday's most exciting arrival at Indigo Hill, our SE Ohio farm, was a male prairie warbler. He sang half-heartedly from the lower edge of the meadow, almost exactly where I took this photo of him last spring.

Phoebe and Julie and I were walking up from the east valley along the old logging road, scanning for morels, spring wildflowers, and box turtles. The only category for which we had any success was the wildflowers: Julie spotted some rattlesnake orchids.

Slogging up the muddy path toward the meadow, our ears were suddenly filled with the rising chromatic notes of a male prairie warbler.

Julie coached Phoebe with this clever tip: "It sounds like a tiny water bottle being filled up." Clearly Phoebe got this analogy judging from the "ah-ha!" look on her face.

I'll bet she remembers this audio clue the next time she hears a prairie warbler. And she should be hearing this male singing from now through mid-July right on our farm.