Wrens are easy to hear but difficult to see, or so I’ve found, and thusly I was especially glad to have encountered this tiny trilling monster near a snaky hibernaculum in southeast Etobicoke.
When I was a young man I was often accused of being a luddite, but in truth, I love much of this new technology, and find it very useful indeed! I am a great fan of electricity, for example, but if suddenly there was no more electricity, I feel I could adjust quickly and without vexation. Anyhow, the horned grebe is lovely in all plumages, and here we see “old red eyes” well into his breeding blacks and golds along the semi-sapphire waterways.
This sorry sapsucker must have smashed into the Sheraton. I picked him up and moved him away from the pedestrian traffic. HIs neck was broken and of course I was astounded by his impossible lightness! He was very fresh, and I wanted to pick him up and keep him, but don’t worry, I didn’t. I will admit that I gave him a few pats and examined his feathers for a little while.
Small Birdsongs 