Spring Fever

The world is bursting at the seams with birdsong.

Swirling in my run-of-the-mill anxiety, it was a relief to go outside into the greenery.

I was caught inside my own head, frenetically (but efficiently!) darting from place to place within the house – washing dishes, refreshing sourdough starter, filling the bird feeder, making hummingbird nectar,  folding laundry, cleaning out the car, putting away groceries, checking the news to make sure there weren’t any additional disasters, dealing with compost, being disappointed by my decision to check the news – and I knew had to get outside, the brief window of spring already closing rapidly.

The overhead chips alert me to free-wheeling swallows, slicing through the air like dive bombers. I’ve been working like crazy to get better at distinguishing tree swallows, barn swallows, and rough-winged swallows as they cartwheel past with their clicks.

The grackles have discovered my bird feeder and argue over it with the blue jays, while the mourning doves and house sparrows selected the subtle route and hop about for the leftovers.

It was a relief to see the birds going about their business, robins and catbirds and geese. Nothing unusual this time, no male Baltimore Orioles scuffling in the treetops, no thrushes singing in the underbrush. But it was a great reminder of the remarkable world living right under my nose. (And I like to think I gave back a little, returning an earthworm stranded on the asphalt to the grass.)

Here’s to more time outside in the spring!

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