Robert Frost names that singer in the title of his 1916 sonnet “The Oven Bird.” 

The ovenbird is a large (six-inch) ground-dwelling warbler common in closed-canopy deciduous and mixed forests from eastern British Columbia to Newfoundland and throughout the eastern U.S. to northern Arkansas. They are one of the most common woodland warblers of the Southern Appalachians. They winter from south Florida to Mexico and Central America and in the Caribbean islands. 

A red-tail by any other name and there are several “named” red-tails. But I dare say for we sons and daughters of the South, simply the word hawk conjures up mental images of Buteo jamaicensis either scanning its surroundings from atop a telephone pole, a high snag or a fence post. And most can remember hearing a piercing scream and turning upward to see this avian god soaring overhead on broad wings with flaming tail trailing.

My bride and I spent a few days in Chicago last week. She was there for a business seminar and I was there for moral support. But, alas, I also had work to do so after walking with her to the 737 Building on N. Michigan Ave. I returned to our room and began recording data from this year’s Forest Service bird points. Our room was on the 26th floor and with the curtains open I had a view of the Chicago skyline. I sat there, entering data and watching it rain. I posted a photo of that rainy day scene on Facebook. Friend and Facebook friend, Janice Irwin, asked if I was looking for peregrines. I said sure and spidermen and went back to my work.

The six weeks from May 1 to June 15 are always a busy time for me. That is the window for my annual Forest Service bird survey. I have more than 200 points spread across the Nantahala and Pisgah national forests from the Hiwassee Dam to Yellow Mountain, to Brevard, to Mt. Mitchell and Roan Mountain and points in between. This year because of all the rain in early May and then the passing of my brother in late May, that window was even more constricted.

I can’t, thinking back now, remember what the two floors below us were at 9 Main Street, in 1999 when this adventure known as The Smoky Mountain News took flight. I can, however, testify those five or six of us stuck around in the nooks and crannies of that third floor, all with electric heaters under our desks during the winter of 1999 were not thinking about where or what The Smoky Mountain News would be in 20 years.

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in a June 2001 issue of The Smoky Mountain News

Taksi was a legendary warrior with legs so stout and armor so strong he could withstand mighty blows. Even when he grew old, he retained his armor and stout legs. His magic was so powerful young Cherokee warriors would rub their own legs against Taksi in hopes of acquiring his legendary prowess.

It’s May! That means my 2019 Forest Service bird survey has begun — another six weeks of roaming the wilds of the Nantahala and Pisgah national forests. It’s clearly a bird-centric six weeks but there is, of course, a lot more to see in our national forests. This past weekend I was fortunate enough to hit a magnolia trifecta. I found all three of the common magnolias — genus Magnolia — (just so you sticklers don’t throw Liriodendron in there) in flower.

It was another great Spring Break along the Gulf Coast of Central Florida. We stayed in Homosassa Springs on the Halls River. 

Ran across this little gem of a blurb on U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service’s (FWS) Facebook page:

“Sports men and women are funding $1 billion in conservation projects across the country this year. That means better habitat for moose, elk, turtles, birds, and many other species!

Maybe it’s March Madness, maybe it’s simply madness, but I’m looking at the Lake Junaluska eagles and thinking “they’re gonna pull it off.” I made a quick drive-by the other morning during that last cold snap, March 22 I think, and was happy to see a bird on the nest. I have had “eagle neighbors” report an eagle on the nest almost every time they look up. And there are “eagle neighbors” with binoculars, eagle neighbors with spotting scopes and “eagle neighbors” close enough to just look up and watch.