Who sees the very small birds hiding in the leaves
A peekaboo glimpse at most as they move about
Perhaps calling softly as they search for insects
Moving through migrating so soon moving on
Without binoculars to zoom in and a trained eye
Almost impossible to differentiate species
So difficult to distinguish without long experience
The mix and match patterns of color and markings
Transient beauty passing us by each spring
A brilliant show of breeding plumage hurrying past
So delicate light as a feather yet such fortitude
Winging their way going to far distant places
Where the males display in their finery
Singing and calling in complex vocalizations
The females select which takes their fancy
To mate and incubate and feed the nestlings
With pairing decided and nests woven
Quiet time settles in while sitting on eggs
The interlude before the hatchlings emerge
And the mad rush to find them food
Then you will see caterpillars in beaks
Being flown indirectly back to the nests
First looking out for anyone watching them
Arriving to appease the clamoring chicks
The most wonderful time of the year
When new life springs into existence
The best time to be a bird watcher
Taking in the grand spectacle of rebirth
