THIS OLD TREE HAS SEEN THEM ALL (4/13/01)

“I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree...” Joyce Kilmer

In grade school where I learned Kilmer’s poem, I wasn’t very fond of it, but over time I have come to appreciate and admire it.

At our house, one way we view each season of the year is through our venerable, twisted and rather decrepit pear tree. Its fruit may appeal only to a few scavenging birds and small mammals, but its moss-covered branches, be they bare to the winter sky, draped with snow or clothed in green and browns, provide birds with perfect perches. In all seasons, this tree is the busiest natural amenity in our yard. Sooner or later every visitor lands there, some to rest, some to survey the surroundings and some to feed among its foliage.

This old tree has known generations of cardinals, mockingbirds, robins, cedar waxwings, blue jays, mourning doves, chickadees, downy and hairy woodpeckers, goldfinches, house finches, golden- and ruby-crowned kinglets, orchard and Baltimore orioles, and warblers that flit from here to there in search of insects. I never tire of watching the activity in this gnarled tree.

Now, after months of snow and cold when only the regular yard birds rested on its branches, it will host more diverse and mainly transient birds. As April opens its world of promise and the sap rises in the tree, perhaps a phoebe, one of a returning phalanx, will stop to pause there. Phoebes nest under bridges and under the eaves of outbuildings. Their call, a raspy, emphatic “fee-be,” the accent on the first syllable, is not to be confused with the sweet and more languid “fee be” whistle of the chickadees’.

Another of the Cape’s birds to arrive early and set up housekeeping is the catbird. This aged tree knows that the only invitation catbirds need to start building their nests is a sturdy bush where they can find shelter and a place to raise a family. The more berries nearby, the better.

In addition to being expert mimics, catbirds are noted for their angry-cat calls when alarmed or disturbed. They reserve their beautiful song — rich, varied and similar to that of their cousin, the brown thrasher — for some secluded retreat. Their mewing notes interspersed occasionally with their sweeter song identifies them. Although on first acquaintance, catbirds are cautious and retiring, they soon accept human friendship. Many Cape residents have befriended catbirds with offerings of raisins.

Although the tree no doubt feels as I that robins have lost their charisma and no longer are heralds of spring because of their large numbers that now winter with us, we are happy to see them probing for worms rather than stripping bushes of their berries. We note the zest in house finches’ zip-zees, the doves already nesting, their gently cooing commencing early in the morning and lasting almost to the last ray in the evening and the great horned owls dueting in the night. It’s definitely April!

Far from our yard’s (and tree’s) arena are the migrating hawks, another avian attribute of April. Broad-wings’ movement at the end of the month is not as noticeable on the Cape as it is on the mainland, but one can often see falcons and accipiters moving along the dunes on the Lower Cape. Almost any elevated spot is worth a try on a warm day late in the month.

In Joyce Kilmer's day as now, your eyes and ears tell you that spring is rapidly approaching. Crocuses have been in bloom for weeks. Other bulbs are ready to share their delightful surprises. Trees are beginning to leaf. Bird calls are lilting. Goldfinches and willows are turning yellow.

You don’t have to connect to the Internet to recognize the imminence of almost everyone’s favorite time of year. Nevertheless, the subject lines on various listserves for birders indicate that spring is definitely performing properly. Here are a few recent Massachusetts subject lines: Tree swallows at Turner’s Falls; Hermit thrushes arrive; Woodcock displaying; Red-tails nesting; Wood ducks are back!; Fox sparrows here and there; Herons return to Rte. 2 rookery. As April progresses, the postings will become more numerous, reflecting the accelerating pace of the season.

Here’s a footnote to spring: Did you know that one of April’s modest beauties, the violet, has another dimension besides pleasing our eyes? As food, wild turkeys eat its roots, and ruffed grouse, mourning doves, bobwhite, turkeys and juncos devour its seeds. Mammals, too, derive benefits from it. Cottontails nibble its leaves, while white-footed and pine mice enjoy its seeds. Even we human wild-food buffs savor them in salads, in candy and as soup thickening! Undoubtedly, our tree has seen all of this in its day!