It is with quiet reverence that we enter into dawn,
The day not yet beginning, the night is not yet gone.
The sounds of life are muted now as nature makes her way,
To summer bliss and young and this, another glorious day.
— Lynette Anderson
I step out of my car into the almost pink of morning. The cool air wafts past my cheeks bringing with it the scent of green and growing things. I look with my eyes and see the yellow of Golden Alexander smiling back at me. I listen with my ears and hear the preeet, preeet, preeet of a Great Crested Flycatcher. In the background, a little farther distant I can discern two Field Sparrows and thrill to hear a Wood Thrush with its melodic, flute-like song. I live for these days. The busyness of nature is at full throttle. Eastern bluebirds are already teaching fledglings how to fly, sandhill cranes are carefully shepherding their young colts around the marsh, fawns are nimbly jumping over logs to follow their mothers to secret glades in the woodland far from predatory eyes. It is a time of birth and newness and the celebration of light and life.
This morning I make my way along the trail to a spot where the prairie is thick with matted grass. I am most excited to see if the Henslow’s sparrow has returned, to this, it’s preferred habitat. I wait…and listen…and wait…I observe two Eastern Kingbirds twittering in flight. I watch a tree swallow take nesting material into a next box, I notice the buds of the lupine, full and ripe and ready to blossom, and I wait…and listen.
It’s barely a song at all, just a quick sneezy sound, tsi-lick, and there it is! I smile and take a deep breath; did I really hear it? I listen more intently and yes; there it is again. This small, inconspicuous brown striped bird with its large head and skulking, secretive manner never ceases to bring me inordinate amounts of joy. Threatened in most of its range and therefore unusual to see, it has arrived here, at Belwin, consistently over the last 10 years to share its summer life with other wildlife on the prairie. I listen for it when the bird’s foot violet is blooming and the pasque flower is just beginning to go to seed.
If you ever wanted to be bilingual, consider the language of nature. The shriek of a frog, the hiss of a snake, the songs and calls of all the birds, the snort and stamp of a deer in the woods. It is a lifetime school of learning and one to which I am a humble student. Every day offers a new opportunity to expand my language skills.
On your next hike, take the time to sit for a while and wait…and listen…and wait…and listen. I guarantee you will walk away more learned about the goings on of the natural world on another glorious day.
When you are out on your next hike, keep an eye out for these early summer bloomers. I look forward to seeing you on the trail and conversing in the language of nature!
Visit our events page to attend an upcoming event with Lynette as your guide, or learn more about volunteering with Belwin on our Volunteer page.
