Bird Brain


I knew it would be bad.
But not this bad.

The May warbler migration at Mount Auburn Cemetery is taking over my brain.

I’ve been getting up at 5.30, to hit the espresso.
Out the door at 6.30, to have my bagels in the Public Garden.

And arrive at Mount Auburn by 7.30.
Starting on Indian Ridge Path.

To scope out the species.

Along with my fellow sufferers.

Today I saw a gorgeous American redstart.

As Big Luther used to sing:
“If loving you is wrong, I don’t want to be right.”

On the plus side, my hearing and vision are better than they have been in years.
They had better be.
If I hope to spot these little bastards.



And after a week or so of long days at Mount Auburn, I don’t think I have a Vitamin D deficiency.

As I was scoping out a gorgeous magnolia warbler the other day, this car pulls up and an older couple gets out.
The husband was very interested in birding, and wanted to know all about it.
So I showed him my Sibley’s.

And we talked about what kind of binoculars to get.
As the wife was watching the magnolia, who had popped out on the end of a branch.

I then began to wax rhapsodic about some of the species I had just seen.
Like the chestnut-sided

And the Nashville

And the Blackburnian (Mother of God, he’s on fire!)

And I told him that watching warblers is as pure as joy comes.
At least in public.

He turned to me and said: “Jim, you are the joy!”

I smiled and thanked him.
And said that many of my close friends would disagree.
Rather violently.

I told him to get some binoculars soon, because the migration stops at the end of the month, when the birds go to Canada to breed.

He said goodbye, and added: “You don’t realize it, Jim, but peace permeates you. You give it off!”

Yeah, I am total Zen.
I walked quickly to the first bench I could find.
So I could calm the hell down.

I had watched that magnolia for several minutes, which, in terms of warbler enjoyment, is an eternity.

He really messed with my mind.
Hell, I can’t stop seeing him!

I should keep a paper bag in my pack.
To blow into.

The same thing happened to me today, as I went over to Willow Pond.
On Tuesday I had seen my first yellow warbler of the season there.

So I checked out the same tree.

And whom should I spot?
Wilson’s warbler.

I mean, who wouldn’t go nuts?

Luckily, I was close to a bench.

Thank God there are many tranquil spots in the Cemetery.

Or I would already have blown a gasket!

There are still a few fabulous warblers who have yet to show.
If I see these guys, no amount of bench time will do me any good.

Help me, people!

Stop me before I thrill again!