Spring in Name Only, Except for the Birds

This is an odd time of year here on the Cape. March and April are spring in name only—mostly. Though our fall weather delights us with its long gradual slump into the cold, the days filled with warmth and color long after the rest of New England has bare tree limbs, the reverse happens in the spring. The trees and ground stay brown and bare for a very long time and though the days lengthen dramatically, it still feels like February lasts forever. Just this week we've had bits of snow, sleet, gale force winds and (surprise!) one day inching into the 50's to tease us. Only the increasing birdsong in the mornings and the fluttering of unusual species overhead as dusk falls remind us that spring is really here. The birds passing through and those arriving from warmer climes for the season, don't seem to care that it's still cold out. They have nests to build, meals to gather, and mates to attract.The birds are everywhere it seems. Two days ago, a huge flock of geese honked loudly on their evening commute over my yard from the golf course greens to Shubael's Pond. Coming into work today smaller dark birds were flying from tree to tree above my head, leaving me once again sorry that I could not identify them by their songs. There were, I think, at least three varieties singing.The two swans who wintered on the Mill Pond have been joined by at least three other couples, although they spend at least half their day with their heads under water eating the weeds that now must be growing again.

I was startled at Dowses Beach parking lot Wednesday by dramatically marked black and white ducks who were cavorting in the waves of the cut as if they were totally oblivious to the rain and cold wind that blew. They probably were. My problem was that the bird book was at home so I couldn't be sure if I was seeing eiders or mergansers (white back and black sides or black back and white sides) ....all I knew was they were so different from the usual mallards seen all year. Today on the other side of the beach I took a picture of a red-breasted merganser and his spouse, but I don't think it's the same bird I saw previously. Probably a cousin. In the parking lot, two herring gulls chomped on the innards of the shell creatures they'd dropped from on high, totally uncaring of any human observation. They rule, and they know it, but with no potato chips to steal, they're rediscovering their natural seafood diet....grab, drop, smash, devour. A timeless routine.The finches are returning to the feeders and one friend has already spotted her first osprey, down in the New Seabury area. Ospreys are a favorite graceful predator; we often can only see them through the web cams at the Natural History Museum or Barnstable High School. The platforms are built in several other locations, but it's harder to catch them in flight. I still vividly remember a chance encounter years ago watching one seemingly huge osprey swooping over the estuary, hunting, and returning with the fish in its claws. Like watching royalty in Mother Nature's realm.

Each season has its charms, if one takes the time to look. My recurring challenge is to make the time, take a step away from the everyday responsibilities, and really look around. And listen too. The new camera helps remind me that there is art everywhere and I need to find it to feed my soul. Today's venture out to South Cape Beach State Park yielded a huge

flock of swans in the marsh, huddling out the the wind, while male and female mallards hunted vegetation in a pool created by the high tide. Tiny birds chirped as we walked, and sometimes emerged from the tall grasses to dip in the air currents swishing around. It was midday so the most interesting visitors were not in sight. Maybe tomorrow a flock of swans in the marsh, huddling out the the wind, while male and female mallards hunted vegetation in a pool created by the high tide. Tiny birds chirped as we walked, and sometimes emerged from the tall grasses to dip in the air currents swishing around. It was midday so the most interesting visitors were not in sight. Maybe tomorrow.