You must look in the right place at the right time.
Look carefully in the brushy thickets for movement.
Scan the budding treetop foliage for a flitting shape.
In April here in New Jersey you might see a warbler.
Listen closely for their chips and buzzing calls
And you will know they are around you not seen.
It’s best to have skills with binoculars
To get a momentary glimpse of these travelers.
Millions of birds migrating thousands of miles
Flying long hours or even days nonstop mostly at night
Going hundreds of miles burning just an ounce of stored fat
Finding their way using navigation abilities beyond our ken.
A tiny creature just a few ounces of feathers and hollow bone
With a disparaged bird brain smaller than a pea
Somehow can smell things I cannot smell
And see and hear things I cannot see or hear.
Such a fragile existence needing multiple habitats:
A place to breed in the spring and summer
A place to winter over and recover from the journeys
A safe passage going back and forth.
How did this migration begin so very long ago?
Such amazing flights over the ocean inconceivable
And unimagined by humans until science revealed them.
Can this migration long endure despite the loss of habitat?
