20 aug 10 birds of all feathers

Summer has been making an appearance as this week ends. This morning the sun was out, the clouds were gone, and the birds were more active than I've seen in two months. The residents - nuthatches, chickadees, and junkies - were on the deck eating the birch seeds that recent strong winds dropped there. Robins were flying in groups between the birch and spruce trees, which is sadly a sign that they're getting ready to head south.

Mid-morning I was working at the desk in the loft when I heard a loud thump on a living room window. Last week a young robin died there and I was hoping that I could help another bird make it to the migration. On the deck a young female blackpoll warbler sat in a daze. I held her in my hands to keep her warm. I couldn't see any visible signs of injury. After a little while I placed her on the picnic table to see if she'd fly off. She didn't. So I made her a little nest of napkins and towels in a yogurt container and left her on the table. I looked out often, hopeful that she had flown off. Eventually I went back to work and hoped for the best.

Not too much later I saw two neighborhood dogs sniffing at the table. I ran downstairs and chased them off. The little warbler was still in the container. As I pulled back the napkin that was partially over the container, she flew off.

The predators were as active as the birds. A little later I noticed a flash of white outside. The neighbor's cat was stalking a young robin. I cranked open the window and both of them scattered.

Despite the drama of prey and predator, life and death, the reminder that we are in the season of birth and growth, the height of life, was refreshing after these weeks of rain.