The Maine
An artful dialogue about the wonders of the state.

Tag: birdsong

Bird Song

haiku and text by Kristen Lindquist I heard the song of the Black-and-white Warbler, which sounds like a squeaky wheel turning, on my walk to work this morning. One of the earliest warblers to arrive each spring, this was the first one I’d heard this year. Warbler song– the warmest weather rolls in on its […]

Tuesday Tune: Bobolink

text and video by Brian Willson Sometimes in a field of summer hay you can hear a bouncy, rollicking sound something like a music synthesizer gone haywire or a cat attacking the keyboard of a child’s piano. That would be the bubbly, antic, rapid-fire song of the grassland-loving bobolink. (Note: the male of this species […]

Tuesday Tune: Hermit Thrush

video by Brian Willson Happened to spot a singing hermit thrush this on a recent foggy, misty summer afternoon at Beech Hill Preserve in Rockport, Maine. This is what magic sounds like.

Tuesday Tune: Song of Summer

photograph, video, and text by Brian Wilson Deep in our shady summer woodlands these days, if you take a moment to listen, you’re sure to hear a lazy, pensive, almost melancholy sound: a slow, slurred whistle that echoes through the trees. It’s the song of the eastern wood-pewee, a dull-colored, inauspicious-looking little flycatcher. If you can […]

Tuesday Tune

video and photographs by Brian Willson What does a Scarlet Tanager sound like?

Afternoon Song

haiku by Kristen Lindquist Soothing, somehow– breeze through the screen, robin’s rollicking, sunlit song.

Tuesday Tune

photograph, video, and text by Brian Willson I’ve written about the species before, but the appearance of a golden-crowned kinglet out back of my place at the height of the February 9th blizzard got me thinking again about this tiny year-round bird. Midday Saturday, while doing a little emergency snow-shoveling on my back deck, I […]

Tit Music

photographs and text by Brian Willson Ah, early February. Still we’re mired in deep winter, but the photoperiod is noticeably lengthening, bald eagles will soon be building nests, and tits have begun to sing their songs of love. Certainly you’ve all heard the music I’m referring to on crisp, sunny mornings exactly like this one. […]

Maine Farmland Trust