While traversing a field, brush-hogged some four to six weeks ago, and now
showing signs of rejuvenation, with eyes more focussed on butterflies, it was
somewhat of a surprise to flush a song sparrow that hesitated in an adjacent
sapling while showing considerable concern. Searching the area almost at my feet
I just made out a superbly well hidden nest beneath a dome of grass, not
dissimilar to that of an ovenbird. On hands and knees for a better look, there in
the dark recess was a clutch of three eggs, blue with heavy brown splotches!
Friday, August 15, 2003.
Speaking the Same Language