As I watered the garden early this morning, trying to beat the full heat of the day, I could hear an American Redstart singing in the new woods behind our house. I turned to study the tall trees abutting our yard, the walnuts and wild pears that neighbor our friendly maples, but the bird, although close, remained hidden in the lush canopy. A family of Northern cardinals made their chimey calls to one another as they ducked in and out of the leaf-laden branches. The Carolina wren who has been visiting one of our nesting boxes with beak-fuls of moss trilled annoyingly at me from a nearby fencepost. But the American Redstart remained hidden, though he continued to serenade me with his sweet, sneezy song.
As I stood peering up into the direction of his song, I mused about the American Redstart’s name. That’s when I remembered: Oh, yeah. Today is the fourth of July.
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