I recently read a wonderful essay by Alexie Tsvetkov, a Russian poet who lives in D.C. It's a rambling stream of consciousness relfection on Prague and his departure from that city. He begins the piece with this: "The city is losing its sparrows. It has been weeks since I last saw one, and that was in New York."
He continues with a little of the history of the sparrow and then flits to pigeons and falcons and the more general role of birds in his life and within his creative consciousness. And he concludes that first section of the essay with: "....life without sparrows is eerie, as if there's a hole in it."
Well, I'm happy to report that there are presently no lack of sparrows in Mr. Tsvetkov's new home. At least the ubiquitous English version. And besides sparrows thus far this spring I have delighted in the songs and antics of American Robins, Cardinals, Chickadees, Nuthatch, Morning Doves, and Titmice (Titmouses?). And yesterday I was given a real treat. After planting some annuals around the side yard I approached the back door only to spy what I first hoped was a Baltimore Oriole, but which with further stealthy observation turned out to be, a American Redstart (m). I never saw a female, but he was in no hurry to leave the largess of my bird feeder, and gave me several minutes to watch him and memorize his details.
I've never seen one before. I hope to see more of this one.
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