Merging lichen communities (orange: Xanthoria Rusavskia Elegans, green/yellow: Peopsidium flavum) at Amphitheater crater, northwest of Odessa, WA
Flashes of gold, and the piercing sound of spring
Honestly, if I had my druthers I’d have my alarm clock set to the vernal blast of a Western Meadowlark, but I think I’ve covered that. My window would be cocked open to let the chill morning air seep in, and the golden bird of the scablands would land on the budding branch of a serviceberry shrub and blow its trumpet.
female in mock orange
The problem is I live on a busy street in a city, and meadowlarks are allergic to this environment. And good for them. I respect their choices and am more than willing to meet them on their own terms. Yellow warblers will come into town, however, and along the river they will even visit Havermale Island, in the heart of downtown Spokane. They only weigh a third of an ounce, and it just seems impossible that something that small can make a sound that loud, that travels the length of a football field, especially across water.
male warbler, wailing in the hawthorn
They’re really busy. They seldom sit still for more than a few seconds. While they’ll often go to the crown of a shrub or tree to make their announcements, they are very much a bird of the thicket. I could complain about that, but honestly I enjoy the challenge. The birds test everything and most often I feel like a klutz.
x marks the warbler
Sunlight on a yellow warbler is incendiary. The challenge is the birds are almost always moving through shadows and that’s more than tricky both for focusing and getting the right exposure settings. Most of these photos are from this spring, including the drama, yesterday, when I came upon a Racer snake ultimately wrapping its 3 foot long body around a warbler next, with the warbler pair doing its best to ward off the attack.
The day of the snake
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