Last Friday, on a tramp looking for invasive incised fumewort, I spied my first mayapples of the season.

The previous Sunday, on Theodore Roosevelt Island, I saw three spring ephemerals: common blue violets, cut-leaf toothwort, and–one of my favorites–spring beauty.

On the island, people were walking, jogging, volunteering with the National Park Service (clearing out invasive plants and other activities in aid of the island’s health), birding, and other spring pursuits. Speaking of birding, on the upper trail in the middle of the island, one young woman shared her exciting find with me: a baby barred owl. I think maybe I finally saw the baby bird; I hope I did; I imagine I did.*

Just because I was having a hard time seeing them, does not mean that the owls and other birds were not in full springtime mode.  Throughout my walk around the island, the Carolina wrens were making an exuberant racket. Using my own limited knowledge and with the help of the Merlin app, I heard 16 species of birds:

• Carolina wren
• mourning dove
• Northern cardinal
• song sparrow
• tufted titmouse
• downy woodpecker
• American crow
• red-winged blackbird
• swamp sparrow
• American robin
• common grackle
• Canada goose
• white-throated sparrow
• cedar waxwing
• Carolina chickadee
• ruby-crowned kinglet

Speaking of birds: so far this spring at least four species of birds have visited our balcony: mourning doves, blue jays, sparrows, and one American crow. I think the mourning doves started visiting in February. Alone or with a partner, the doves walk along the railing planters and investigate the other pots scattered around. I think they do this with an eye to starting a family. They do seem to feel at home here, as I have observed them mating the last couple of years. As a result, each of the last two years a single egg has been laid in a pot and then abandoned by the doves. I am not sure why this happens  (mourning doves are not noted as particularly conscientious nesters), but I think if they did they would be sitting ducks for more aggressive birds.

Blue jays visit occasionally throughout the year and have been here several times recently.  The jays seem to like to keep a lookout on our space.  They sometimes plant the peanuts that they find somewhere, and generally mess up the dirt in our pots.  I love jays for their raucous, bold, blue, and beautiful ways–hold the presses!  Two minutes ago a blue jay came swooping in to inspect the coral bells that Tom planted in his planters twenty minutes ago.  They have their eyes on us.

Although they are very common in our urban neighborhood, this is the first year I remember sparrows flying up to our balcony.  These little visitors flit around so quickly, I am not sure what species they are. They may be invasive house sparrows, but I am not sure. Today, I put the binoculars in the living room so I can look closely next time before the sparrows fly away.

Three days ago an American crow flew onto the balcony railing. He or she peremptorily picked at the planter where I recently planted black-seeded Simpson lettuce and where mourning doves recently walked and blue jays recently snooped. Then the crow swooped right next to one (of two) black painted wooden crows we’ve had in every garden, since the 1990s, The crows seem to have their eyes on us, too, and–somehow–that comforts me.

The Blues At several places on that most recent walk on T.R. Island, I encountered little blue butterflies. These “blues,” as they are called, are some of my favorite butterflies. I never  manage to get photos of them–they are so quick and erratic. When we meet, it’s  a flash of blue and an intense feeling of movement and light. In 2014 Tom and I were hiking on an upland forest trail in Great Basin National Park when we came upon hundreds of blues dancing in the bright dappled sun.  I think I took a photo, but, if I caught anything, it was moving sunlight.

These walks in dappled sun, these glimpses of spring beauties, these baby owls, these flashing wings of blue, help me keep the other blues at bay.

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*I have been watching birds all my life and I have tried, fitfully, to be a birder for over 50 years, but I am still a novice. I have spotted many wonderful birds (e.g., vermilion flycatcher, American condor, cactus wren, etc.), but I have missed many more.