One Spring Morning

   The stillness of the morning awoke with the first spark of sunrise. Silence turned to song, and a chorus of mixed birds squeaking through our open window woke me up much earlier than normal.  Within moments that first spark of light turned into glowing rays of sunshine. I quickly dressed and grabbed my arsenal of hummingbird equipment and proceeded to the back door.  I slowly opened it to not scare any birds in the vicinity. 
     It was like the first morning ever created.  I inhaled deeply and soaked in that glorious Spring air.  The fragrant Aspen Forest was so refreshing and the sparkling dew covered grass enhanced the most spectacular sunrise. Several species of birds were present. They all sang their own song, all so different, and none of them in unison. It was like unorchestrated chaos, but so beautiful.  What a transformation from just one month ago.  Every male songbird sat atop the tallest trees and put forth its very best effort in song, trying to attract a mate.  Just about every one of these birds had traveled hundreds, if not thousands of miles for one sole purpose, mating.
     Amidst all the song in the garden was one lone silent bird.  He arrived knowing it was his territory, but was nothing like all the other birds.  He was small in stature, fierce in attitude, and had no song to impress. As a matter of fact he could easily be overlooked when scanning the forest.  His methods of attracting a mate were far different than all the others, but much more impressive.  The only similarity he had with other birds was that he had to anxiously wait, just like all the others, for an arriving mate. He would spend a limited amount of time on the tallest perch he could find, and if there was no activity within a couple minutes he would proceed to the next tallest perch.  He continued this until he formed a perimeter around our yard.  This was his territory, and he was not to be messed with. 
              As I anxiously await this Spring's visitors, all I can do is reminisce on the past seasons. Here sit's Ziggy, my dominant male Ruby-throat, just waiting for the ladies to return. 
​N.E. of Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. May 26, 2018. 

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