When I went out back with Bode this morning was startled to feel the mildness of the air, it was 55 deg F at 6:30 am.
Our walk yesterday afternoon was nice, although it was cloudy and drizzling rain, it was warm. I put an unlined nylon jacket over my usual sweater and was plenty warm. It felt strange to be out without a parka on. I was too ill to take Bode out on Sunday, so was especially good that we had a nice walk.
It wasn’t a particularly good photo day, but the listening was wonderful. The birds are back and fired up with returning spring. We were headed back home when I heard it. There was a robin call, then a chickadee, then a cardinal, then a blackbird, just a bit louder and slightly different style than the “original artist” bird’s song. I looked around carefully and saw the mockingbird sitting on the peak of a roof. I whistled back to it, and it replied. Still wasn’t sure but then it flew upward and displayed the white windmill wings and I knew its species.
There weren’t mockingbirds around here (Western Pennsylvania) when I was growing up. I first heard one while visiting a cousin in Macon County Illinois in the 1970s. I think that was then the northern limit of their range.
Is this what living with global climate change will be like, noticing subtle changes that most people don’t pay attention to?
