As far as open spaces go, my little clearing in the woods is hardly worth sneezing at. But for a Field Sparrow on migration northward, a couple scraggly blueberry bushes will do for one night's lodging. I woke up to this fellow singing outside my window last week, a familiar, quickening trill, gaining momentum as it goes. The great Roger Tory Peterson likened the rhythm of the Field Sparrow's song to a ping-pong ball dropped onto a table, bouncing less and less. It bounced me right out of bed, though, and outside for a morning walk.
As our New Hampshire woods and fields fill up with new arrivals in the coming weeks, check this page, too, for the arrival of new observations and photographs from the Harriers. Young birders will have a chance to post their own observations, musings, and photographs here in a running journal format, sharing their own descriptions of the springtime and also giving some highlights from our Young Birders Club field trips. Our song, too, is a quickening trill, gaining momentum as it goes.