AH-CHOO!

Crap. I don’t sneeze unless it’s related to allergies. How can I be sneezing in February (insert “climate change” explanation here)? Sneezing, migraine, and vertigo settle in rendering me unable to do anything but whine on the couch. Sounds of construction overpower any chance of hearing bird activity outside, except for the occasional crow.

This goes on for a couple days when I finally throw on some shoes and risk the great outdoors of my neighborhood. I have to be careful to not swing my head around too much lest the vertigo send a not-so-subtle reminder that I can’t walk straight. “Warbler neck,” the term used to describe neck soreness after staring up into tree tops for warblers, has turned into my dizzying version called “Warbler Wobble.”

The warm, golden glow of the sun cheers me up instantly, accompanied with a chorus of bird calls claiming territories for singing love songs. The Oak Titmouse is the loudest this early evening, with Anna’s Hummingbirds, Least Goldfinches, Mourning Doves, and Yellow-rumped Warblers offering backing vocals.

I stand in one spot straining my neck to see the finches and warblers without the help of binoculars. I’m hoping that the neighbors don’t think I’m weird, although I’ve worn my “Can’t Talk Now… I’m Birding” t-shirt for good measure.

While staring up, I see a woodpecker silhouette on a telephone pole. Wow, what a lot of red! Wait, it’s a Red-breasted Sapsucker! Only the second time I’ve seen one in this neighborhood (and perhaps the same individual) over the years.

AH-CHOO!

There’s my clue that I’ve overextended my stay in the allergied outdoors. I slowly walk home absorbing all the sweet calls and delighted to see a special bird to cheer me up.