Morning light

After a cold and snowy winter, I certainly couldn’t have imagined that the snow would be gone by mid-March nor could I have predicted several days with temperatures nearing 70. But that’s what happened, and though a storm will soon bring the warm weather to an end, I certainly appreciated this spate of glorious weather, however brief.

Signs of spring are appearing daily around the cabin. The multi-colored leaves of the trout lily (aka dog-toothed violet or yellow violet) are pushing their way up through the decaying leaves. Yesterday three golden-crowned kinglets flitted through my back forest. The eastern phoebe that arrived last week has settled in, tame enough to land near me when I sit outside.

I haven’t yet found any coltsfoot, the yellow dandelion-look-alike flower that appears even before its leaves. That seems a bit odd but that’s spring. The season arrives in fits and starts and each year is a bit different. Certain things are similar, but nothing is ever the same with a season. I haven’t heard any towhees yet, which is also a bit odd, nor have I found any tree swallows either. Those will come, I’m sure.

My photo today is a female bluebird. The bluebirds are active again and right now they are more common than robins in my area. This one was with her more brightly colored mate as the two worked their way around the edge of Pinchot lake. When the early morning sun peeked through the trees and reached her perch, I thought she was every bit as pretty with her more delicate shades.

Blue bird, blue sky

A brilliantly blue sky might be the only thing bluer than an Eastern bluebird. Here on Roundtop, bluebirds may be the most common species found year-round. Chipping sparrows and American robins are more common during summer, but they don’t spend the full year here. Chickadees and tufted titmice are pretty common, too, though they are spread out all over the place, so actual numbers for them are difficult to determine.

Bluebirds are both numerous and easy to quantify. They are easily visible as they ply the grassy ski slopes of summer. It’s not uncommon for me to count 20 of them in a single evening just along the mountain’s western slopes. No nesting boxes are found here. The dead or hollow branches these birds like are also numerous, as evidenced by the one in the background of today’s photo. It’s just as well no one has placed nest boxes for them here at Roundtop. There’s already plenty of them, and more might just result in over-crowding.

In winter, when the slopes are covered with snow, the birds still remain here, though they can be harder to find then. Often, they join up with other species, sometimes with the few over-wintering robins, to forage in winter flocks. They are quick to find any open water or wet spot, and I may see a dozen or more around the tiniest. I routinely put out fruit for them in winter, but truthfully I’ve never had one show up at my feeders. I think the cabin sits too deep in the woods for them.

Near the cabin, but at the bottom of the lane, I often see them in early morning heading out of their roosting tree, where they all seem to sleep. The tree is about 100 yards from the ski slopes, along the power line. Usually, I hear them before I see them. They don’t seem to emerge all at once, though they usually leave within a few minutes of each other. Then they head back to the slopes again, commuting, as it were, back to the grass and then returning each night to their sleeping tree.