Spring 60:
5:30am-6:40am, Arnold Arboretum, Jamaica Plain, MA
foggy
I finally made it out at more-or-less sunrise-time, after two weeks of late mornings and dreary weather. Not that I've missed much - I think there may have been one visible sunrise in the last two weeks. (Today's was not.)
Still, it's good to be out at the early hour, and to see that the birdsongs are not hugely different than what I've been hearing. I was worried I was missing all the acoustic glories of dawn!
I wonder how much the rainy dreary weather has affected migrating birds: who sings, and who stays.
Today's bird was a new one to me, in a tree up on Peters Hill. I liked his sing-song-y little call:
I was still in Calvino mode this morning. There was a moment when my ears were filled with birdsongs I'd never heard before, and I was transported in Calvino's fable of the mysterious continent full of birds-that-might-have-been.
I realized then that I don't need to invent any birds - the real ones here on Earth are varied, unpredictable, and unknown enough (at least to me) to occupy and fascinate me for quite some time.
That moment of clarity was Calvino-eque, too - it disappeared as soon as it had begun, and I couldn't find those mysterious birds again.
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