The Sweet Encounters

Sometimes encounters are all the more sweet because of the stories we hold in our hearts.
I came upon this beauty, along with the White-throated sparrow and the Song sparrow in previous posts, on my walk through Ijams Nature Center late last week. When I first spotted him, he was high in a tree. I took a couple of snaps anyway.I was glad I did. This was the only view I got of the yellow rump patch.
Enchanting. That subtle fall plumage against the yellows and blue, and the quiet of the moment. A rest along his journey?

It was only this spring that I got better acquainted with warblers as they were migrating through my yard. And it was with great delight that I encountered a Blackburnian singing in the low canopy, so close that I wanted to stop breathing for fear I would startle him.
I think my earliest futile efforts to see and identify wood warblers make them all the more endearing to me now. I count these up close visits among my treasured wildlife moments.
He/she's a bit shaded here...
but none-the-less a beauty. I thought I was about to lose him, when he once again landed on a branch close by with a bit of sunlight.

A yellow-rumped or a Magnolia? I keep waivering between the two. But the magic lingers just the same.

Note: The consensus from the bird blogging community is yellow-rumped warbler. Thanks everyone for your comments!

Magnolia Warbler

Here’s my fourth warbler this week, the Magnolia warbler. In the photo he’s a speck and a bit of a fuzzy one at that, but let me tell you the story about why these photos make me so happy.
Once, about seven years ago, I went out with a group of experienced birders to find migrating warblers. I had no idea what this would be like. (Mind you, seven years ago, I wasn’t quite as hardy as I am today.) On that spring morning, person after person called out the names of warblers. They named them by song. They found them in the trees. They counted them out, one by one, by one, lots of them.

I saw nothing. I heard nothing. I found nothing, no matter how people near me tried to help. On that morning I faded away and soon left in tears.

I haven’t really thought about that experience since then--until now. To have these illusive little birds come visit me in my yard, to find them almost effortlessly and to identify them with these fuzzy photos while looking in my field guide—this gives me great joy. It’s as though they hurt my feelings on that day and have come by to mend them. And that makes me laugh.They are beautiful. And they are funny. And they travel thousands of miles against great odds to return to their breeding grounds in the spring. We are so very lucky to have them. --I think I may have to paint them one day soon.

Yellow-rumped Warbler

Another beautiful warbler passing through, or maybe staying, I can't be sure--the yellow-rumped warbler--returning from Central America or the Carribean. What I can show you about him with my photos is the beautiful canopy and his size in relation to the oak leaves around him. I was truly surprised when these warblers--this one and the Blackburnian in the previous post--came so close and lingered long enough for me to catch some images, both of them on the same morning. This is one of the magical things about nature, especially birds. If you sit still for a while and listen, the birds will come to you.

It is of course, spring and mating season, so when a male is singing, you can often get a good enough look to identify the warbler. (I use Peterson's field guides.)
Experienced birders know these tiny birds by song. I'm a novice. I'm sure I always will be. I'm interested in everything I see out there and there's a lot to see.

Global Migrants--Blackburnian Warbler

I live in a river valley, right on the edge of the Great Smoky Mountains in the Cumberland mountain range. One of the fun things about living here is the rich variety of flora and fauna and the wide diversity of climate and habitat. Besides all the plants and trees in successive bloom this time of year, it is peak migration season. Many migrants are newly arriving and others still passing through to their nesting grounds. Among these are the illusive woodland warblers, tiny little birds that you often hear but barely glimpse as they pass. But yesterday was an exceptional day. A Blackburnian Warbler, a striking little bird with a bright orange head, perched on a branch near me, flittered about and sang a whispery song that seemed to shake his whole body. Such a gift to our world. These are one of the many migrants that unite and brighten the globe with their journeys, in this case, as far south as southern Central America and northern South American in the winter, with some traveling as far north as Canada to summer breeding grounds.

Taking care of our earth and its creatures means taking care of each other.