Some weekends are sublime and others mundane. Obviously, we cannot survive one transcendent weekend after another, but this stretch of late winter seems to require more than the usual routine. I found little inspiration in the usual birds, so I turned to the great Herman Melville for some grand avian allegory:
And there is a Catskill eagle in some souls that can alike dive down into the blackest gorges, and soar out of them again and become invisible in the sunny spaces. And even if he for ever flies within the gorge, that gorge is in the mountains; so that even in his lowest swoop the mountain eagle is still higher than other birds upon the plain, even though they soar.
The best bird of my weekend was just a drab American Goldfinch working on a feeder that most finches seem to avoid. Corey’s Best Bird of the Weekend was actually a small flock of Piping Plover that flew over the jetty at Jones Beach, his first of the year and a bird that is more than welcome anytime!
What was your best bird of the weekend? Tell us in the comments section about the rarest, loveliest, or most fascinating bird you observed. If you’ve blogged about your weekend experience, you should include a link in your comment.