The Wren Rescue

Our Carolina Wren, the day before

I went to Central Park this afternoon. It was blustery and cold, though sunny. As I left Maintenance meadow in the Ramble, I ran into Ranger Rob Mastrianni and two other Park workers. "I have a wren in my bag", Rob said.

One of the Carolina Wrens who has been around the Evodia feeders this winter was acting listless--not feeding and seemingly unable to fly--and the birders watching the feeders called Rob, and Rob spirited the little bird away to the Wild Bird Fund. Hopefully our little friend will recover well. At least he's somewhere warm now.

The afternoon was otherwise pretty uneventful. An American Tree Sparrow was at the feeders with the usual residents, but I didn't see the Pine Warbler who was observed earlier in the day. I walked around a while, looking at likely spots for Woodcocks, but none presented themselves.

Mockingbird, come out to glare at me

When I first entered the park at Cedar Hill, I heard an odd song--a phrase of two high notes, repeated at intervals of a few seconds--coming from Near the Transverse, near the path between Cedar Hill and the south side of the Metropolitan Museum. I had a notion of what it was, stopped and approached the trees along the Transverse to see if I could get a look. Eventually the Mockingbird--for that was indeed who it was--came out to glare at me for getting too close to his tree. Hello, bird!