April 5, 2026

Where: Hidden Oaks Nature Center

When: 4:35pm

Bird Species: white-throated sparrow, northern cardinal, tufted titmouse, American robin, Carolina chickadee, blue jay, hairy woodpecker, hermit thrush, red-bellied woodpecker, American crow, white-breasted nuthatch

Things I Thought About:

• The Easter service this morning was all the hits: the good Easter hymns, Easter lilies and tulips purchased by members in memory/in honor of someone, communion service, handbells, a wry acknowledgement that Mary Magdalene saw him first, but it wasn't official until a man said it. 10/10, no notes.
• Well, the children seemed to be borderline feral, but this is not at all uncommon at a progressive Christian church.
• It rained all day, somewhat spoiling the effect of pretty Easter dresses and my new sandals with the big flower, but right after a rain is a great time to see birds. The ground is saturated and the worms come up, so you can see a lot of birds at relatively low altitude.
• Well, that is unbelievable. The ones in my complex are impossible screeching maniacs who stay yards overhead, but just look at those two blue jays.

• One of the hymns this morning was "Crown Him with Many Crowns," which was one of the funeral hymns for my father. I don't think I could ever join a church again, but attending does make me feel very close to my parents, both gone these fifteen years, but whose absence I still feel acutely and often.
• And man, I loved singing the hymns today. It's so wonderfully uplifting and anonymous. Hymns in unison are the "dance like no one is watching" of singing, for people who don't usually sing.
• I think I have reached a state of perfect equanimity about my religious practice, where I can both listen to the Easter story from the Gospel of John and marvel at how completely full of holes it is, and also be fully onboard for rebirth and new life and replying "Christ is risen indeed!" when that spot comes up in the service.
• I can hear gnatcatchers. First time I've heard them this year, and that's a real summer bird, in my estimation. Haven't seen them yet, but they are for sure around. No mistaking that weird little sucking noise of their calls.
• I grew up so steeped in hymns that they do come to mind sometimes when I'm really into an early morning outing, all those great old ones from the hymnal section labeled "God the Creator:"
  summer and winter and springtime and harvest,
  sun, moon and stars in their courses above,
  join with all nature in manifold witness
  to thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love
• "Manifold" is a word I have read (and sung!) a hundred times, but I don't think I'm one hundred percent on the actual definition. "Unprepossessing" is also in this category. I get the gist.
• Not too many great photos today, but a lot of great birds.
• Relatively often, when I am outside, I will catch a woodpecker being startled by a squirrel, or a pair of married birds being sweet together, and I will feel a little touched. Now and then, when I'm doing the bird walk in the worst possible mental state, trying to calm myself down or stop spiraling thoughts, and I'll turn my head at just the right moment and encounter a jaw-drop surprise: a hawk with a snake, a heron taking flight not 50 feet away, and think "that was just for me, I needed that," and feel not just touched, but moved.
• Maybe twice since I listed my first bird, I have found myself standing in the woods alone, seeing six or seven species of birds, listening to all their chirps and songs harmonize with the sound of running water and my breathing, hearing wind blow through the tops of the trees full seconds before it gets to me on the ground, smelling petrichor or honeysuckle, feeling my feet holding me up and tipping my face to the sun and just letting the abundance of it all wash over me, and feeling not just touched, not just moved, but filled. At least for a while.
• I'm now a pretty lackluster Christian, but I'd have been a pretty good pagan, I bet.
• Hey, chipmunk! So much better than a squirrel it's stupid.

BOTD: White-throated sparrow, my favorite sparrow. They are staying quite late this year, I think. It's been in the 80s a couple of days already. I don't recall them being quite so skittish in the winter? The flocks of robins that foraged together in the winter are starting to break up a little, but these guys are still moving and foraging in crowds, and it seems like they don't stay in any one place for very long at all. I'm pleased I got at least a couple of good shots where you can see both their yellow markings on the cap and their white throats.

I've never mentioned this bird without mentioning how unmistakable their train-whistle songs are, and how much it pleases me to hear it and know they're around.