Marcia Bonta

  • Moosic Mountain

    Moosic Mountain

    Last May seven of us stood atop Moosic Mountain listening to the thin, quick, ascending notes of a singing prairie warbler. It was mid-afternoon after hours of pouring rain and the mountain was still swathed in fog. Six of us, Mike and Laura Jackson, George Mahon, Sam Dietz, Bruce and I, had traveled three and…

  • Bird Brains

    Bird Brains

    Don’t call anyone a bird brain unless you are complimenting them. In the last couple decades, researchers worldwide have been discovering how amazing bird brains are. That should not be a surprise since feathered winged animals that fly have been evolving on earth for more than 150 million years, according to recent genetic analyses. Neuroscientists…

  • May Journal Highlights

    May Day Musings May 1. 47 degrees at dawn and overcast with a shower before breakfast. Three deer foraged in the flat area and did not flee when I set out the bird feeder. Halfway along Black Gum Trail, the first ovenbirds finally sang. Our springs are later and later; England’s are earlier and earlier–three…

  • A Walking Meditation

    Another National Migratory Bird Count day and we are blessed by a perfect May morning–cool, clear, and ringing with birdsong. This time, though, I resolve to take it easy, to move slowly and quietly, to make this day a walking meditation on the beauties of this most splendid of months. Besides, I am getting older…

  • An Aural April

    On a misty morning in early April, I set out on a listening walk. The fog was so thick I could barely make out the trail in front of me. But although my visibility was almost zero, my hearing was excellent. First I stood in our yard and listened to the assorted whistles of a…

  • Minstrel of the Woods

    I don’t have to leave this planet to hear the music of the spheres. Surely, listening to wood thrushes singing is as ethereal an experience as any mortal can hope for on earth. Many evenings, when I step outside, wood thrush song envelops me and it seems as if all the world’s wood thrushes are…