Everyday for the past week, a Nashville Warbler has been calling . It started first in the evening, now he's singing in the morning. I go out, trying to figure out who is singing. Scanning the treetops, moving from here to there. Looking skyward, always hearing, never seeing. He's there, I know it. but when he started I didn't know who was the singer. He kept it up, always moving just ahead of me, always just out of sight.
The mosquitoes and blackflies would dance around me, moving in for a blood drink, around the eyes, the nose, in my ears. Any exposed place, drilling down for blood. And still me and this bird would do our dance around the birches. He just out of sight up in the treetops, me around the tree bases, my head craned upwards, slowly spiraling around.
Later, with the song still fresh in my mind, I try tracking down who was making this song that was driving me in this slow dance around the trees, always looking up. It sounded warbler-like, that I was sure. Slowly , the parts came together. The Nashville Warbler.
Then later that evening, he called again. I raced out, started the dance again. Still I don't see him. I don't even know if he exists. I hear, but do not see. But still I dance around looking , head tilted back, binoculars to my eyes, feeding the mosquitoes. It would be better if the song was more musical, but it's not, it just feeds this obsession to see him.
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