American Robin photo – SilverLining

I was born on March 21st. For all of my childhood, I understood the day to be the first day of spring. As I entered my adult life (perhaps mankind became more informed), some claimed the 20th of March to be the first day of spring. I choose to ignore the enlightenment and to continue to think of my birthday as the first day of spring.

Some Native American tribes called the March moon “Worm Moon” because the ground softened and the worms wriggled their way to the surface – where a lucky American Robin might find a few for lunch, as the above photo, which I took this weekend, will attest.

Spring is in full action as the snow continues to melt away and the thaw saturates the soil and water seeps and flows and floods in an urgent rush. The water above is coming into the pond from a stream.

This past winter was unusually cold. The most remarkable thing I noticed along with the cold was the absolute silence in the air when I’d walk near the pond. Not even the crow was sending a call. But now all has changed and the crow is again posturing, holding authority, ruling the sky.

The natural environment does not make it easy to see all that’s happening. Under the cover of thicket, this cardinal pair alights for the joy of my eye and the capturing of them with my camera.

What has come to signal the official start of spring for me (besides my birthday), is the arrival of the mallard pair. I’ve noticed that shortly after the ice along the shorline melts, the mallards arrive. Yesterday, I saw them for the first time. Here’s the male, skirting the edge of the ice.

Below is the female.

And at the same time, a pair of Canada geese have returned. In the photo below, goose and ducks paddle in harmony.

Today I had the wonderful treat of seeing a type of duck I’d never seen before. Pictured below is the Wood duck, the striking male in the foreground, the female, with her white eye shadow, in the background.

On cue, the red-winged blackbird returned this week and the territorial activity is underway.

In the last steps of my hour-long walk yesterday, the Great Blue Heron flew overhead but did not stop. I smiled. This bird is nobody’s fool and will alight in its own time.

Except for the first photo in this post, which was taken about two weeks ago (and is titled “Best in Show”), each photo in this post was taken in the past few days.
All is in renewal at the pond.
Happy first day of spring.
Happy birthday.

(Click on any photo in this blog to enlarge it for better viewing. Use your back arrow to return to the post.)

When it happens – the burst of spring life at the pond – it starts with an energy I imagine to be like a mini big bang. All things – big, little, sleek, slimy, sweet-scented, stinky – come to life at once. Bees buzz, frogs croak, peepers peep, birds call their distinctive calls, and fish splash with a plop after a leap into the air for a fly meal. And as the days get warmer, the soft, light green of the buds becomes a vibrant green as the leaves of the trees and the ferns of the undergrowth unfurl. Everything that moves simultaneously flies, swims, and darts about with enthusiasm and an urgency of survival – eager to mate, eager to spawn, eager to protect their newborn. Pictorally presented, here’s May at the pond.

A look of disinterest by day, this frog will belt out his best mating call by night.

Briefly, through the course of a week or so, the scent of Honeysuckle permeates the air, especially on a humid day.

The pads of the waterlily rise to the surface to gather the sun’s rays, and to act as a landing strip to the Short-stalked damselfly (click on photo to enlarge, see center pad. Use back arrow to return to post).