Driving to Rockland this morning I passed a field full of robins. This was the very field on Meadow Rd. above which I spotted my first-of-year vulture not so long ago, so maybe I should just camp out there in my quest for signs of spring. This morning it was robins, the first I've seen in the past month or so that I feel certain are "inbound" birds, not lingering, wintering birds from Canada. As they migrate north, these spring robins can be seen in great numbers spread out across farm fields, probing the recently thawed soil for worms and other goodies. Each one seems to have its own patch, just a few feet from another robin. The blacker-looking birds with brighter red breasts are the males; the females look slightly faded alongside. Today's group seemed to be a mixed-gender flock. It won't be long now before I hear the robin's rollicking "cheery-up, cheery-o" song in my yard right about this time of day, as the sun sets behind the treeline. In my neighborhood, they're usually the first bird I hear when I awake and the last I hear before dark.
Muddy, untilled field--
to the migrating robins,
a moist chocolate cake.
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