Something I read once: “I have measured out my life in coffee spoons.”
This bit of literary BS was written by a guy named TS. I’m not a fan. But, sometimes you read a thing and it sticks.
The line occurred to me in a forest when October sun hit the trees sideways, and you could see they were full of fall warblers.
I thought to myself: a guy could say he’d measured out his life in fall warblers.
I wouldn’t be that guy.
But I had the thought. And it’s kind of true. Every year around this time, if you come to a place like this, they’re there.
Many fall warblers molt into drab colors as they migrate, and are hard to identify. But when the sun’s low and bright, you can make out okay.
The Black-and-White Warbler, a favorite, is easy even in fall. And the Yellow-rumped still has a yellow rump.
A favorite.
I like the names Black-and-white and Yellow-rumped. They’re honest. The word “warbler” is not honest. These nervous birds make buzzing sounds, but don’t warble.
I saw Wilson’s Warblers, Magnolia and Connecticut Warblers; faded Yellow and Chestnut-sided Warblers.
As an aside, there were other birds: a Red-bellied Woodpecker (also misnamed) had a red head that matched some fall leaves.
There was a White-crowned Sparrow on the trail. A hawk was passing overhead, and could’ve been anything. I’m guessing Broad-winged.
In any case, the trees belonged to fall warblers, and so did this moment, this time of year.
I saw Blackburnian and Blackpoll Warblers. There was an Ovenbird on the ground, an American Redstart and a Palm Warbler. Other warblers were hard to identify.
That’s okay. I don’t care about identifying them. I guess I just care about their showing up every year.
Hi Bill: Artifact is right. Marc
I still vividly remember one cold and blustery day in southwestern Minnesota, visiting mother-in-law Doris’ home and standing front of the floor-to-ceiling picture window watching as flight after flight of warblers migrated past. They just kept appearing, and I would hastily try to figure out what they were with my Peterson field guide, but as an earlie commenter mentioned, they were “confusing” but incredibly exciting! Thanks for cranking this memory out of the long-forgotten data banks of my age-challenged brain!
Eliot was an artifact of his time and place, as are we all, and anyone who could write Old Possum’s can’t have been all bad.
TS was a snob, a bigot and he wore his trousers rolled.
I cut my teeth on the Peterson Guide, and I have to laugh everytime I see migrating warblers this time of year, because I instantly think: “Oh look, it’s one of those ‘confusing fall warblers’ (refering to an infamous page in the field guide).
TF beats TS for my money. Hopefully your warbling will create the buzz it deserves.
TS is BS? The TFBW may not have literary intentions, but I’ve seen all those past posts full of…allusions. This is one literate blog.