It’s bleak in the woods on a day when you expect action. But in this wilderness that yielded much on past hikes, stillness.

Wait. Motion. In front of your boots the ground moves.

A long, thin snake. Stripes running from front to back. Shiny eyes, pointed tail. It’s carrying no danger, no fun. It wiggles off but doesn’t go far.

Shouldn’t there be birdsong? In your neighborhood the trees are full of it. Why not here, where April in the wild should be loud?

You hike on. Then…what’s that?

A small bird alights on a nearby branch. You get a good look. Finally something. A spring warbler. You say to yourself (and maybe the snake)…“Myrtle.”

A strange word and wrong for this bird, yet not really wrong. The current correct name is “Yellow-rumped Warbler.” But it used to be “Myrtle Warbler.”

For reasons only ornithologists care about, it was officially changed to “Yellow-rumped” back in the 1970s. Whatever. It was an attention-getter.

The only bird you’re going to spot on this bleak hike.

But there was yellow against busy black and white. And that business about the name change. Stuff to think about. And a snake.

You’ve never been on a hike that didn’t have some things going for it.

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