Oh, I read this and my eyes well up with tears. Yes. Each moment we have in nature helps us endure the stress of human horrors. Environmental degradation. Lack of empathy. Yet for the complex systems of those other lives that endure and their beauty, yes, they are our respite from the fray... we can be saved. Saved by that recognition of the vireo, or whatever catches your attention in nature. Thank you Bryan. You keep our community going.
Yeah verily, or vireoly, but, what's that you say? I can't hear you for the red-eyed vireo right now singing so nearby. Thanks Bryan, for yet again being Bryan.
I am so grateful for your Vireo musings. Here on my woodland hill in western Mass, I hear the song of the Red-eyed Vireo almost nonstop, and I have chosen to not let it “get on my nerves” and your insights will help me continue to enjoy their song, full of wonder! Thank you.
Thanks for this beautiful essay reminding us that there is nothing ordinary about the seemingly ubiquitous red-eyed vireo. Just once have I seen one come to our small front yard pond, approaching carefully through the limbs of the adjacent redbud tree, during fall migration last year. My heart nearly stopped with happiness and awe at seeing it up close enjoying the Dyer Farm Bird Café & Spa. Thanks again for reminding us to look at and listen to every bird. 🙏
trail and the Red eyed Vireo on the other, without a doubt the Robin shows off his little known mimicry skills and adds a few musical riffs that sound more reminiscent of the Vireo. Funny you have selected the Red eyed Vireo, besides all the usual suspects, I have more or less two yards this time of year in VT, and both have been a major attraction to the Vireo, and both, have also attracted the Eastern Phoebe . And both, are doing their musical thing, every day, very very loud and clear.
“Perils everywhere. Death by anything from deforestation to storms to window strikes. Or a nest full of vireos. All that from a prosaic bird weighing no more than an ounce. And all of it expressed in a song persisting throughout the day. Never shall I take that for granted”.
This is a beautifully written post, Brian. Migration is certainly a masterpiece of nature. Have you ever watched Winged Migration, in theaters in 2001? Well worth seeing. While seeing it on the big screen was emotionally overwhelming, you can still find it on various venues, I believe Netflix . Here is a preview. Just hearing the music again is…
Ever since I learned just who was constantly singing (and had been for years) in the tops of our oaks and other trees, I have appreciated this little guy so much and until I hear him announce his return each spring, I hold my breath, uncertain that I won’t find his song to comfort me. Yet, so far I haven’t been disappointed. You expressed so well, so much of how I feel when hearing his chattering. Thank you!
Utterly beautiful. And however much I too welcome the transcendence of my own small encounters with nature, and write of them, it is so good to read your contemplation. I am also in awe of our warblers, and the journeys they make. Here it is the willow warbler that sings incessantly; I welcome each note. Thank you Brian for your own song.
Great post. I'm on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington state, where Red-eyed Vireos are super rare. But this year we've found SIX singing birds, including 3 spread out along one road. It's our top local birding news right now!
Thanks for the update, Stephen. I wonder if they're on the increase in the Pacific Northwest (sorta like Barred Owls ... but ... uh .... er ... maybe we won't go there). 😀
Gosh. If I were a red-eyed vireo the most appropriate response to this beautiful essay would be: thank you…what a gift…your insight…your attentive way…soften me.
Here’s one you may like. My late biological father wrote a poem once about mourning doves. Part of it read:
Ooh ah ooh…ooh…ooh…
You are here…with…me.
So now that’s all I hear, all day long as they sing around the yard—a singsong reminder that we’re together.
Yes, I should have noted that they're scattered breeders in the Pacific NW. Oh, what I'd give for Anna's Hummingbirds in winter, however! 😀 Thanks, Dennis!
I really like that shrill, continuous call of the Red-eyed Vireo. I have been hearing it often on my weekly hikes and it sounds so cheery and friendly in the morning.
Oh, I read this and my eyes well up with tears. Yes. Each moment we have in nature helps us endure the stress of human horrors. Environmental degradation. Lack of empathy. Yet for the complex systems of those other lives that endure and their beauty, yes, they are our respite from the fray... we can be saved. Saved by that recognition of the vireo, or whatever catches your attention in nature. Thank you Bryan. You keep our community going.
The "recognition of the vireo" -- I could have used that as a title for my essay. Thanks, Sue. And thanks for caring.
Yeah verily, or vireoly, but, what's that you say? I can't hear you for the red-eyed vireo right now singing so nearby. Thanks Bryan, for yet again being Bryan.
Then we're listening together, Micki! An honor!
I am so grateful for your Vireo musings. Here on my woodland hill in western Mass, I hear the song of the Red-eyed Vireo almost nonstop, and I have chosen to not let it “get on my nerves” and your insights will help me continue to enjoy their song, full of wonder! Thank you.
Thanks, Mary Ann. Yes, in some ways, a vireo is a state of mind -- even calming to the our nerves.
Just what I needed today. Thank you for your beautifully written piece.
Agree
I'm honored to write, Carol. Thanks for reading.
Thanks for this beautiful essay reminding us that there is nothing ordinary about the seemingly ubiquitous red-eyed vireo. Just once have I seen one come to our small front yard pond, approaching carefully through the limbs of the adjacent redbud tree, during fall migration last year. My heart nearly stopped with happiness and awe at seeing it up close enjoying the Dyer Farm Bird Café & Spa. Thanks again for reminding us to look at and listen to every bird. 🙏
They can indeed be furtive up there in the trees. I'm glad to hear one came in to visit with you, Diana!
Sometimes the Robin is singing on one side of the
trail and the Red eyed Vireo on the other, without a doubt the Robin shows off his little known mimicry skills and adds a few musical riffs that sound more reminiscent of the Vireo. Funny you have selected the Red eyed Vireo, besides all the usual suspects, I have more or less two yards this time of year in VT, and both have been a major attraction to the Vireo, and both, have also attracted the Eastern Phoebe . And both, are doing their musical thing, every day, very very loud and clear.
“Perils everywhere. Death by anything from deforestation to storms to window strikes. Or a nest full of vireos. All that from a prosaic bird weighing no more than an ounce. And all of it expressed in a song persisting throughout the day. Never shall I take that for granted”.
This is a beautifully written post, Brian. Migration is certainly a masterpiece of nature. Have you ever watched Winged Migration, in theaters in 2001? Well worth seeing. While seeing it on the big screen was emotionally overwhelming, you can still find it on various venues, I believe Netflix . Here is a preview. Just hearing the music again is…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzJqF3WdN80
Thanks, Lor. I have indeed seen Wings Migration. Transformative. American Robin and Red-eyed Vireo -- rich and fruity!
Your essay reminds me that the unsung hero of nature is endurance, which may sound pedestrian but is profound and transcending.
Well said, Terry. Thanks!
I find nature to be the great soother of the chaos we are surrentlyliving thru. Thanks for a getter description than I am able to verbalize
Your voice is supportive and clear for nature. Thanks, Teri!
Ever since I learned just who was constantly singing (and had been for years) in the tops of our oaks and other trees, I have appreciated this little guy so much and until I hear him announce his return each spring, I hold my breath, uncertain that I won’t find his song to comfort me. Yet, so far I haven’t been disappointed. You expressed so well, so much of how I feel when hearing his chattering. Thank you!
I'm so glad to hear that he's persisting in your oaks and other trees. As we know, sadly, lots of birds aren't.
Utterly beautiful. And however much I too welcome the transcendence of my own small encounters with nature, and write of them, it is so good to read your contemplation. I am also in awe of our warblers, and the journeys they make. Here it is the willow warbler that sings incessantly; I welcome each note. Thank you Brian for your own song.
Thanks, Michela. And I'm enjoying FLOW, and most certainly your evocative photography. It's calming and beautiful.
Thank you Brian, that’s lovely to know.
Great post. I'm on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington state, where Red-eyed Vireos are super rare. But this year we've found SIX singing birds, including 3 spread out along one road. It's our top local birding news right now!
Thanks for the update, Stephen. I wonder if they're on the increase in the Pacific Northwest (sorta like Barred Owls ... but ... uh .... er ... maybe we won't go there). 😀
Gosh. If I were a red-eyed vireo the most appropriate response to this beautiful essay would be: thank you…what a gift…your insight…your attentive way…soften me.
Here’s one you may like. My late biological father wrote a poem once about mourning doves. Part of it read:
Ooh ah ooh…ooh…ooh…
You are here…with…me.
So now that’s all I hear, all day long as they sing around the yard—a singsong reminder that we’re together.
Ooh ah ooh ... your bio father left us all a gift, Kimberly. Thanks!
Thanks, Bryan. Keep injecting sanity into our world. And here in Washington, where Red-eyed Vireos are quite local, I will appreciate them even more.
Yes, I should have noted that they're scattered breeders in the Pacific NW. Oh, what I'd give for Anna's Hummingbirds in winter, however! 😀 Thanks, Dennis!
I really like that shrill, continuous call of the Red-eyed Vireo. I have been hearing it often on my weekly hikes and it sounds so cheery and friendly in the morning.
Your hikes must be in hardwoods, Neil. They do like them. Glad to hear they're singing to you.
Beautifully written - reading this was the best part of today!
Thanks, Karen. I guess I'd have to say that completing the essay was the best part of today for me! 😀
Love the world, make it better. Yes.