Return of the Brown Thrasher
It was hard to hear our thrasher clearly. The robins have really upped their singing these past few days, and the goldfinches are twittering like school girls, at times at an almost deafening level. There have been April and May mornings here when we could not hear anything other than goldfinches.
Other indisputable signs of spring: five warm, light-blue eggs in our front yard bluebird box; lots more screaming from the resident red-shouldered hawks, major spring peeper action, the American toads tuning up in our patio pond, and Julie asking me to start the tiller for her. Each spring, when the brown thrasher arrives, Julie MUST plant the garden. I could set daylight savings time by it. Sure enough, she not only tilled the garden and re-mulched it, she got the Bird Spa going again, and removed the crusty winter brush pile.
Me? I worked on my taxes, another sign of spring's continual unfurling.