OK, I'm so excited I could just about burst!!!!
This seems the most appropriate venue to share the exciting news...
I've just been commissioned by one of my favorite ensembles, the conductor-less chamber orchestra
A Far Cry, to write a birdsong-based piece for spring of 2013 for their concert at the Isabelle Stewart Gardner Museum.
It's been a fantasy for over a year now to create a three-dimensional performance piece with "birds" calling and singing from all 360 degrees "live surround-sound", including up in the balconies, and it's totally thrilling to have the opportunity to realize this vision with some of my favorite musician friends. These guys kick ass, and can play anything. An incredible opportunity!!!!!!!
Save the date: April 4, 2013 at the Gardner Museum, in their new and unique performance space.
Wow, what to do with all this excitement???!!!
For now, I'm directing it towards this weekend's performances with Sarah Bob, and a 3-cello piece I'm writing for my friends Michal, Aristides and Rafi (no birds, but still really exciting!) which premiers on March 4.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
Feeling for Spring
Is it spring? It's hardly winter this year, and frequently I suspect spring has already come.
I don't trust the groundhog (according to Wiki his accuracy is 37%), so am a bit baffled as to how to call spring. Not so interested in arbitrary dates- I would prefer an environmental cue. Ideally I'd like to use the arrival of a spring migrant (bird) to determine a start date - something to consult my birder friends about.
It's important as I am gearing up for a spring 2012 installment of A Bird a Day. Very excited to have another focused period of dawns and creative work! Last year, early spring got rained out, I was up north in Acadia when the migrants came through Boston, then I ran out of gas for the sunrises. Not this year! I intend to really study the dawn chorus and get to know my spring migrants.
Meanwhile, I am excited to polish some of my pieces from last year for an upcoming recital with my pianist friend, Sarah Bob, at the end of this month. I'm also hoping to write a short, structured improvisation for us that quotes some of my favorite Messiaen, from his incredible piece, "Catalogue d'Oiseaux" ("Catalog of Birds").
I don't trust the groundhog (according to Wiki his accuracy is 37%), so am a bit baffled as to how to call spring. Not so interested in arbitrary dates- I would prefer an environmental cue. Ideally I'd like to use the arrival of a spring migrant (bird) to determine a start date - something to consult my birder friends about.
It's important as I am gearing up for a spring 2012 installment of A Bird a Day. Very excited to have another focused period of dawns and creative work! Last year, early spring got rained out, I was up north in Acadia when the migrants came through Boston, then I ran out of gas for the sunrises. Not this year! I intend to really study the dawn chorus and get to know my spring migrants.
Meanwhile, I am excited to polish some of my pieces from last year for an upcoming recital with my pianist friend, Sarah Bob, at the end of this month. I'm also hoping to write a short, structured improvisation for us that quotes some of my favorite Messiaen, from his incredible piece, "Catalogue d'Oiseaux" ("Catalog of Birds").
Friday, October 21, 2011
Reflections on a Year
Well, it's been a full year since I started A Bird a Day, and eleven months since my initial one-month idea got extended into a yearlong endeavor.
While the project is not finished per-se - I am still developing material and compositions, and plan to record a CD this winter - I am no longer trying to get out every single day and make recordings.
Completing a year feels like a significant step, and I have been reflecting on the things I learned - they are many!
For one, it is hard to do something every day, even something you absolutely love. While I was thrilled each day of my first month, the subsequent eleven got harder and hard to keep up. I had no sense of pacing going into it. By the time the long-awaited, true birdsong season of Spring hit, I was exhausted and could not keep up my sunrise routine. So silly - I used up my sunrise energy on Fall and Winter, and their relatively few, non-singing birds!
Moreover, at a practical level it's just hard to do something every single day, unless you are in a totally contained and small community / environment that specifically nurtures that thing, like a monastery or artist's retreat. When other work and projects were knocking, it was hard to keep carving out time every day to be meditative and connected to nature, not to speak of the time it takes to compose, blog, and sound-edit.
When you add a sense of obligation to something you love, it can make even your favorite activities dreary. I was constantly fighting machismo and practicality. I would want to be hard-core and do the daily sunrise thing, especially as my daily posts racked up and looked ever-more "impressive" to me. Meanwhile, my practical side suspected that with a few days off, I'd be re-energized and more present in my nature meditations.
Machismo almost always won out, as my allegiance to the task overwhelmed the point of the task, and I sometimes lost my point. My conclusion: obligatory and/or ego-driven meditation is a bad idea!
I experienced relative social hermitude for a year. An early-morning routine is tough to keep up as a professional musician - rehearsals, concerts, and all the socializing in my field happens at night. For a year, I barely did any night-time activities that weren't gigs - I barely saw any live shows, passed up parties, left events early, and generally had a minimal social life as I was always trying to be in bed by 10pm!
On the positive side, I am pleased to say that my initial hypothesis, "A bird a day keeps the doctor away" proved to be true, at least for this small yearlong sample. I can prove it - the only time all year that I got a bit of a cold, in mid-September, was after a couple weeks of very sporadic (not daily) bird walks. Otherwise, I made it through the winter and rainy spring without ever succumbing to a cold or flu, though people around me were falling over left and right. Aha! Let the National Audubon Society buy this motto from me =).
Other things learned:
--I now know the Arboretum and Franklin Park very intimately, nooks and crannies, and am familiar with several parks that I didn't know of before the project.
--I know winter better, I've seen more of her many faces and the details of her daily changes after meeting her every morning for several months. I have new appreciation for her beauty.
--I've trained my ability to listen deeply, and to slow down. The daily practice seems to have honed some listening, meditative, and observational muscles, which I'm excited about!
--I've also discovered that I love to walk, and that a morning walk is the best way to start my day. Whodda thunk? I was always a runner before this project. It has helped me actually slow down, instead of just talking about slowing down.
--One of the most thrilling developments is that this project has fostered a link back to my classical music roots. In September, I played Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 1 with the Rhode Island Philharmonic, and the experience was nothing short of revelatory.
It felt like I was hearing and experiencing the piece for the first time, though I had studied it many years ago in school. Check out the opening and its remarkable evocation of nature, stillness, birds:
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/GWASaebFhUA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
I felt a great sense of wonder, and connection - I've been exploring and struggling with ways to use music evoke the sonic and emotional experience of the natural world, and here had Mahler done it, some one hundred years ago.
Sometimes I fester about my frustrations with classical music culture - its elitism, its rigidity, the narrow degree of creativity that is expected of players; but my week playing Mahler 1, I was all about love - love for this amazing music, the incredible composer. I was overwhelmed with appreciation for classical music's unique capability to create music of these dimensions, colors, formal cohesion, precision, and musical depths with some 100 musicians. I mean, no other genre of music can do this, especially with so many performers. It's really amazing!
It's lovely to come full circle on so many things. I'm sure it's not the first time I will move towards one thing and away from another, but this particular circle is quite significant, as I had grown estranged from the most beautiful and precious elements of classical music - the very things that first inspired my love and desire to be a musician! So it's a happy homecoming, indeed.
Now I will start taking orchestral auditions and give up all my crazy projects.
Just kidding!
However, I am pumped about planning a violin recital this winter and focussing on some standard repertoire, and not worrying too much about being experimental or cross-disciplinary. For once.
More updates to come on A Bird a Day CD recording, concerts, and other performances. I hope to make up for this year's tired spring by re-engaging with my daily expeditions next Spring 2012.
Stay tuned!
While the project is not finished per-se - I am still developing material and compositions, and plan to record a CD this winter - I am no longer trying to get out every single day and make recordings.
Completing a year feels like a significant step, and I have been reflecting on the things I learned - they are many!
For one, it is hard to do something every day, even something you absolutely love. While I was thrilled each day of my first month, the subsequent eleven got harder and hard to keep up. I had no sense of pacing going into it. By the time the long-awaited, true birdsong season of Spring hit, I was exhausted and could not keep up my sunrise routine. So silly - I used up my sunrise energy on Fall and Winter, and their relatively few, non-singing birds!
Moreover, at a practical level it's just hard to do something every single day, unless you are in a totally contained and small community / environment that specifically nurtures that thing, like a monastery or artist's retreat. When other work and projects were knocking, it was hard to keep carving out time every day to be meditative and connected to nature, not to speak of the time it takes to compose, blog, and sound-edit.
When you add a sense of obligation to something you love, it can make even your favorite activities dreary. I was constantly fighting machismo and practicality. I would want to be hard-core and do the daily sunrise thing, especially as my daily posts racked up and looked ever-more "impressive" to me. Meanwhile, my practical side suspected that with a few days off, I'd be re-energized and more present in my nature meditations.
Machismo almost always won out, as my allegiance to the task overwhelmed the point of the task, and I sometimes lost my point. My conclusion: obligatory and/or ego-driven meditation is a bad idea!
I experienced relative social hermitude for a year. An early-morning routine is tough to keep up as a professional musician - rehearsals, concerts, and all the socializing in my field happens at night. For a year, I barely did any night-time activities that weren't gigs - I barely saw any live shows, passed up parties, left events early, and generally had a minimal social life as I was always trying to be in bed by 10pm!
On the positive side, I am pleased to say that my initial hypothesis, "A bird a day keeps the doctor away" proved to be true, at least for this small yearlong sample. I can prove it - the only time all year that I got a bit of a cold, in mid-September, was after a couple weeks of very sporadic (not daily) bird walks. Otherwise, I made it through the winter and rainy spring without ever succumbing to a cold or flu, though people around me were falling over left and right. Aha! Let the National Audubon Society buy this motto from me =).
Other things learned:
--I now know the Arboretum and Franklin Park very intimately, nooks and crannies, and am familiar with several parks that I didn't know of before the project.
--I know winter better, I've seen more of her many faces and the details of her daily changes after meeting her every morning for several months. I have new appreciation for her beauty.
--I've trained my ability to listen deeply, and to slow down. The daily practice seems to have honed some listening, meditative, and observational muscles, which I'm excited about!
--I've also discovered that I love to walk, and that a morning walk is the best way to start my day. Whodda thunk? I was always a runner before this project. It has helped me actually slow down, instead of just talking about slowing down.
--One of the most thrilling developments is that this project has fostered a link back to my classical music roots. In September, I played Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 1 with the Rhode Island Philharmonic, and the experience was nothing short of revelatory.
It felt like I was hearing and experiencing the piece for the first time, though I had studied it many years ago in school. Check out the opening and its remarkable evocation of nature, stillness, birds:
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/GWASaebFhUA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
I felt a great sense of wonder, and connection - I've been exploring and struggling with ways to use music evoke the sonic and emotional experience of the natural world, and here had Mahler done it, some one hundred years ago.
Sometimes I fester about my frustrations with classical music culture - its elitism, its rigidity, the narrow degree of creativity that is expected of players; but my week playing Mahler 1, I was all about love - love for this amazing music, the incredible composer. I was overwhelmed with appreciation for classical music's unique capability to create music of these dimensions, colors, formal cohesion, precision, and musical depths with some 100 musicians. I mean, no other genre of music can do this, especially with so many performers. It's really amazing!
It's lovely to come full circle on so many things. I'm sure it's not the first time I will move towards one thing and away from another, but this particular circle is quite significant, as I had grown estranged from the most beautiful and precious elements of classical music - the very things that first inspired my love and desire to be a musician! So it's a happy homecoming, indeed.
Now I will start taking orchestral auditions and give up all my crazy projects.
Just kidding!
However, I am pumped about planning a violin recital this winter and focussing on some standard repertoire, and not worrying too much about being experimental or cross-disciplinary. For once.
More updates to come on A Bird a Day CD recording, concerts, and other performances. I hope to make up for this year's tired spring by re-engaging with my daily expeditions next Spring 2012.
Stay tuned!
Month 12: September 2011
Here is a long overdue synopsis of the final month of my year of observations for A Bird a Day.
It was a full-circle kind of feeling as summer grudgingly gave way to autumn, the season during which I started this project a year ago.
Did I say grudgingly? I should say, unwillingly! The cicadas were my favorite constant throughout the month (and they were still at it in early October, on the occasional warm morning).
Here are some audio snapshots of the last month:
September 30, 2011
6:50am, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Let it be noted, the cicadas still sing on the last day of September! Crickets and an annoyed robin as well.
September 26, 2011
8:40am, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Um, here come the nuthatches. They are so funny, I don't mind, especially since the cicadas still sing. Yes I am a summer-addict...
September 23, 2011
7:50am, my house, Jamaica Plain, MA
My old friend, showing off two of his calls
September 22, 2011
8am, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Still the cicadas persist, to my delight! I say it's still summer as long as they're singing (we'll just ignore that chickadee..)..
September 20, 2011
1pm, London Heathrow Airport
I got a kick out of this singing flying thing as it was landing. I fumbled for my recorder and got this snippet, though I missed a really great (almost vocal) gliss:
Seems fair to give the man-made bird one nod in the whole year, no?
September 19, 2011
9:50am, Parc de l'11 de Setembre, Vilafranca del Penedes, Catalunya, Spain
I love the Catalan version of mourning doves: listen to the overlapping birds. A gentle but steady undercurrent to the blustery traffic of the adjacent road.
Also this great avian groove:
September 18, 2011
8:30am, vineyards by Vilafranca del Penedes, Catalunya, Spain
This bird stopped me in my tracks, though he was too well-concealed in a hedge for me to glimpse:
I also loved this quiet chorus of birds clustered in a tree:
September 17, 2011
9am, vineyards by Vilafranca del Penedes, Spain
I love this gurgling squeaking bird!
And this wild whistler:
Some more wacky and wonderful bird sounds (plus mosquito - no sign of fall here!!):
September 10, 2011
8am, my backyard, Jamaica Plain, MA
A fun duet between my neighbors: chickadee and Carolina Wren.
September 9, 2011
10am, my backyard, Jamaica Plain, MA
My daily alarm clock. I mostly love this guy (Carolina Wren), though sometimes he's up before I'm ready to be (though not today!)
September 8, 2011
5:45pm, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Harbinger of fall! Squeaky chickadee.
September 5, 2011
9:15pm, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
The cicadas still sing
It was a full-circle kind of feeling as summer grudgingly gave way to autumn, the season during which I started this project a year ago.
Did I say grudgingly? I should say, unwillingly! The cicadas were my favorite constant throughout the month (and they were still at it in early October, on the occasional warm morning).
Here are some audio snapshots of the last month:
September 30, 2011
6:50am, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Let it be noted, the cicadas still sing on the last day of September! Crickets and an annoyed robin as well.
September 26, 2011
8:40am, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Um, here come the nuthatches. They are so funny, I don't mind, especially since the cicadas still sing. Yes I am a summer-addict...
September 23, 2011
7:50am, my house, Jamaica Plain, MA
My old friend, showing off two of his calls
September 22, 2011
8am, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Still the cicadas persist, to my delight! I say it's still summer as long as they're singing (we'll just ignore that chickadee..)..
September 20, 2011
1pm, London Heathrow Airport
I got a kick out of this singing flying thing as it was landing. I fumbled for my recorder and got this snippet, though I missed a really great (almost vocal) gliss:
Seems fair to give the man-made bird one nod in the whole year, no?
September 19, 2011
9:50am, Parc de l'11 de Setembre, Vilafranca del Penedes, Catalunya, Spain
I love the Catalan version of mourning doves: listen to the overlapping birds. A gentle but steady undercurrent to the blustery traffic of the adjacent road.
Also this great avian groove:
September 18, 2011
8:30am, vineyards by Vilafranca del Penedes, Catalunya, Spain
This bird stopped me in my tracks, though he was too well-concealed in a hedge for me to glimpse:
I also loved this quiet chorus of birds clustered in a tree:
September 17, 2011
9am, vineyards by Vilafranca del Penedes, Spain
I love this gurgling squeaking bird!
And this wild whistler:
Some more wacky and wonderful bird sounds (plus mosquito - no sign of fall here!!):
September 10, 2011
8am, my backyard, Jamaica Plain, MA
A fun duet between my neighbors: chickadee and Carolina Wren.
September 9, 2011
10am, my backyard, Jamaica Plain, MA
My daily alarm clock. I mostly love this guy (Carolina Wren), though sometimes he's up before I'm ready to be (though not today!)
September 8, 2011
5:45pm, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Harbinger of fall! Squeaky chickadee.
September 5, 2011
9:15pm, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
The cicadas still sing
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Summer 13: From One Treehouse to Another (Or, The View from My Backyard)
Well, this has been the longest stretch I've gone between posts since the winter. Time to catch up!
I have been moving house, which has been a relatively all-consuming affair. Plus, living among boxes, without functioning internet turns out to be a real impediment to a audio editing and blogging. Today is my first day at my own desk in 3.5 weeks, and it feels great!
So much can happen in two weeks. New home. New neighbors - both human and birds. A hurricane downgraded to tropical storm downgraded to an excuse to stay in bed all day while the wind blew outside.
What's fun and exciting is that I moved from one great backyard in JP (the Arboretum) to another (Franklin Park), and that I somehow managed to keep my third-floor treehouse status. Lucky me!!!
Here is a brief run-down of the last two weeks:
TODAY
I thought it was a mystery bird - until he revealed himself. This guy is definitely one of the most fun of my new avian neighbors, and I hear him every day. While I no longer have a balcony on my bedroom, I was able to record him at my window.
True identity revealed:
How many times will it take me to recognize the Carolina Wren in his different voices?
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
7:15AM back porch of my new house
My new neighbor, whose song wakes me gently every morning (after the raucous alarms of the jays):
Did I mention a giant, five-house-long boulder runs behind my house?? This is the (sonic) view from my back porch.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
7:20-7:45am, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Crickets and a cricket-like trilling bird.
Monday, August 29, 2011
7:20am-8:00am, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Post-storm survey of Franklin Park reveals lots of downed branches. Some of my favorite paths are strewn with large ones, and have been taken over by robins and squirrels. Reminds me of the book, The World Without Us, which argues that nature and the earth are much more powerful than human forces, and will eventually self-heal from human intrusions.
Couldn't find this bird, but tracked it all around the pond for quite a while:
Also, first peewee I've heard in Boston after a summer full of them in Ohio!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
7:15-7:40pm, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
"Tropical Storm" Irene just doesn't have the same ring!
The would-be hurricane left a bit of destruction in its path, though not nearly as much as had been feared. I am grateful, truly, that there wasn't more damage to living beings nor their homes, but I was also disappointed to miss out on phenomenal high speed winds.
My original plan was to go out to a big empty field and rough out the elements (had they come) with my friend, though in hindsight I'm not sure I would have been brave enough.
Even walking into a calm Franklin Park at dusk made me a tad nervous.
There were branches here and there, nothing giant, but I couldn't help wondering at each one if it would have been big enough to fell me, had I been passing by at the wrong moment.
I recorded these sparrows by the open path, where I hesitated to enter the potentially dangerous woods. The jingle at the end is the tag of a dog with his owner, nonchalantly strolling out of the woods. Their casual attitude emboldened me to take a short walk in the woods myself.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
6:20am, Peters Hill, Arnold Arboretum, Jamaica Plain, MA
Robin Central on Peters Hill seems relatively calm this time of year. Here is a snippet of overheard robin conversation, with the jays yammering away as always.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
7:20am, Arnold Arboretum, JP
Jay playing hawk!
And today's bird, whom I suspect I know. I have been feeling rusty with my bird IDs. Just like any language, if you don't use it, you lose it:
Sunday, August 21, 2011
6:20am
Saturday, August 20, 2011
6:00am
Birds singing in Couplets...
Friday, August 19, 2011
11:53am, my balcony, Jamaica Plain, MA
My bird didn't sing when I hoped it would. Here is my version (one octave lower):
I have been moving house, which has been a relatively all-consuming affair. Plus, living among boxes, without functioning internet turns out to be a real impediment to a audio editing and blogging. Today is my first day at my own desk in 3.5 weeks, and it feels great!
So much can happen in two weeks. New home. New neighbors - both human and birds. A hurricane downgraded to tropical storm downgraded to an excuse to stay in bed all day while the wind blew outside.
What's fun and exciting is that I moved from one great backyard in JP (the Arboretum) to another (Franklin Park), and that I somehow managed to keep my third-floor treehouse status. Lucky me!!!
Here is a brief run-down of the last two weeks:
TODAY
I thought it was a mystery bird - until he revealed himself. This guy is definitely one of the most fun of my new avian neighbors, and I hear him every day. While I no longer have a balcony on my bedroom, I was able to record him at my window.
True identity revealed:
How many times will it take me to recognize the Carolina Wren in his different voices?
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
7:15AM back porch of my new house
My new neighbor, whose song wakes me gently every morning (after the raucous alarms of the jays):
Did I mention a giant, five-house-long boulder runs behind my house?? This is the (sonic) view from my back porch.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
7:20-7:45am, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Crickets and a cricket-like trilling bird.
Monday, August 29, 2011
7:20am-8:00am, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Post-storm survey of Franklin Park reveals lots of downed branches. Some of my favorite paths are strewn with large ones, and have been taken over by robins and squirrels. Reminds me of the book, The World Without Us, which argues that nature and the earth are much more powerful than human forces, and will eventually self-heal from human intrusions.
Couldn't find this bird, but tracked it all around the pond for quite a while:
Also, first peewee I've heard in Boston after a summer full of them in Ohio!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
7:15-7:40pm, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
"Tropical Storm" Irene just doesn't have the same ring!
The would-be hurricane left a bit of destruction in its path, though not nearly as much as had been feared. I am grateful, truly, that there wasn't more damage to living beings nor their homes, but I was also disappointed to miss out on phenomenal high speed winds.
My original plan was to go out to a big empty field and rough out the elements (had they come) with my friend, though in hindsight I'm not sure I would have been brave enough.
Even walking into a calm Franklin Park at dusk made me a tad nervous.
There were branches here and there, nothing giant, but I couldn't help wondering at each one if it would have been big enough to fell me, had I been passing by at the wrong moment.
I recorded these sparrows by the open path, where I hesitated to enter the potentially dangerous woods. The jingle at the end is the tag of a dog with his owner, nonchalantly strolling out of the woods. Their casual attitude emboldened me to take a short walk in the woods myself.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
6:20am, Peters Hill, Arnold Arboretum, Jamaica Plain, MA
Robin Central on Peters Hill seems relatively calm this time of year. Here is a snippet of overheard robin conversation, with the jays yammering away as always.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
7:20am, Arnold Arboretum, JP
Jay playing hawk!
And today's bird, whom I suspect I know. I have been feeling rusty with my bird IDs. Just like any language, if you don't use it, you lose it:
Sunday, August 21, 2011
6:20am
Saturday, August 20, 2011
6:00am
Birds singing in Couplets...
Friday, August 19, 2011
11:53am, my balcony, Jamaica Plain, MA
My bird didn't sing when I hoped it would. Here is my version (one octave lower):
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Summer 12: Reunion
6:30am-7:15am, my neighborhood + Arnold Arboretum, Jamaica Plain, MA
cool, breezy, scattered clouds
A "tea-kettle, tea-kettle, tea-kettle" singin' Carolina Wren serenaded me before I'd gotten one block from my house.
He lured me first with this trill:
Then, I re-visited the Arboretum for the first time since early June. It was a gorgeous and happy reunion!
I reveled in the lush, dense greens; the new shoulder-high meadows where last I'd seen cropped lawns; the bright dimples of wildflower-color everywhere.
Running into Rocco and his owner, I babbled happily about how nice it was to see the Arboretum at its peak of summer glory. He burst my bubble by pointing out that there were already many fallen leaves, brown, on the path. I remembered the acorn from Franklin Park last week. My spirit dipped momentarily.
As I strolled home, I noticed a whole stand of trees standing in inches of dead, brown leaves, and decided that those must be LAST YEAR's leaves, that have not decomposed yet. That's my story and I'm sticking to it...!
Other birds this week:
On Tuesday 8/16 I heard a crazy bird in Watertown in my friend's backyard - new to me, though a little bit like a catbird in its eclectic and sheer weird-ness. To be recorded!
Earlier that afternoon, I stopped by magical Mt. Auburn Cemetery, as the sun broke through a day of clouds, dappling incredible beeches and deeply-creviced sugar maples.
I enjoyed this funny bird who looked almost like a non-blue (grey? white?) blue jay. Large, crowned head, black marks on his otherwise white throat.
Sunday 8/14
late morning, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
cool, breezy, scattered clouds
A "tea-kettle, tea-kettle, tea-kettle" singin' Carolina Wren serenaded me before I'd gotten one block from my house.
He lured me first with this trill:
Then, I re-visited the Arboretum for the first time since early June. It was a gorgeous and happy reunion!
I reveled in the lush, dense greens; the new shoulder-high meadows where last I'd seen cropped lawns; the bright dimples of wildflower-color everywhere.
Running into Rocco and his owner, I babbled happily about how nice it was to see the Arboretum at its peak of summer glory. He burst my bubble by pointing out that there were already many fallen leaves, brown, on the path. I remembered the acorn from Franklin Park last week. My spirit dipped momentarily.
As I strolled home, I noticed a whole stand of trees standing in inches of dead, brown leaves, and decided that those must be LAST YEAR's leaves, that have not decomposed yet. That's my story and I'm sticking to it...!
Other birds this week:
On Tuesday 8/16 I heard a crazy bird in Watertown in my friend's backyard - new to me, though a little bit like a catbird in its eclectic and sheer weird-ness. To be recorded!
Earlier that afternoon, I stopped by magical Mt. Auburn Cemetery, as the sun broke through a day of clouds, dappling incredible beeches and deeply-creviced sugar maples.
I enjoyed this funny bird who looked almost like a non-blue (grey? white?) blue jay. Large, crowned head, black marks on his otherwise white throat.
Sunday 8/14
late morning, Franklin Park, Jamaica Plain, MA
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)