Not a creature was stirring, not even a titmouse.
The feeders were hung in the trees with care,
In hopes that the migrating hummingbirds soon would be there.
The birders were searching for tripods lodged in the shed,
While visions of Orioles danced in their heads.
And mamma with her binoculars, and I in my cap,
Had just settled in for a migration nap.
When out in the lawn arouse such a clatter,
I sprang from my birding chair to what was the matter.
Away to the window, I like a flash,
It tore around the yard and made quite a dash.
The sun on the breast of a Red Throated Ruby
Gave the lustre that rivaled royal jewels beauty.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a territorial male and a female who decided to disappear.
A little odd bird, so lively and quick,
I knew it in a moment, from its music and frolic.
Now Rufous! now Black Chin! now Ruby Throated and Allen!
On Buff Bellied! On, Anna! On Costa, drinking my sugar water by the gallon!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! Now fly away! Fly away! Fly away all. © 2012
~ A Rambling Wren Original Poem
Get your feeders ready. Migration is here.
