Dawn

I slept with the windows open last night. Wide open. Maryland had its first warm night of the summer yesterday and I wanted to take full advantage.

Of course, the disadvantage of sleeping with the windows open is that you're disturbed by every stray noise coming your way - trains, that silly fox barking at all hours, dogs, the murmur of homeowners getting that one last chore done before bed.

And then there's the dawn chorus.

The dawn chorus occurs each year during breeding season. Shortly before dawn - and continuing for sometime after - every male bird is singing. They're marking their breeding territory while at the same time enticing females to become their life partners, at least for a few months. This morning's dawn chorus was so loud and incessant it woke me up early. I lay in bed ticking off the birds I could hear singing in the predawn: northern cardinal, American robin, song sparrow, house sparrow, northern mockingbird, American goldfinch, downy woodpecker, tufted titmouse, Carolina wren, Carolina chickadee, white-throated sparrow, European starling. I counted every backyard bird I could reasonably expect to hear except the one I wanted to hear most.

Fred and Ethel have yet to show up.

Bluebirds were looking at my nestboxes back in March but that was the last time I saw them. They haven't taken up residence in my backyard. I don't hear the male bluebird singing. I'm guessing they're not around this year. Maybe there's too much hubbub in my neighborhood now or they've gotten nervous about the proximity of all the houses. A couple of years ago, my bluebirds didn't start their first brood till well into May, so I'm still hopeful.

Until then my nestboxes are nothing more than fancy house sparrow traps. I've caught two of those so far this year.
K-