Day 115: Yesterday evening, I noticed activity in the heavy cover at the base of the contorted filbert, but although I could see orange on the bird, it wasn't doing Spotted Towhee's customary hop-back/scratch maneuver. Nor did it act like a Robin. It was definitely digging furiously, with decaying leaf matter and gobs of snow being thrown about with vigour, so I got out the camera and zoomed in through the double-pane glass of my big window. "What the heck?" I blurted. "That's a frigging Thrush! It's too early for Thrushes!" But there it was, and as I watched it, another Thrush joined the first. I wrote them both off as mentally deficient. This morning, however, I discovered not one or two, but at least a dozen of them, some in the woods adjacent to the house, others again under the filbert. And they were piping, albeit rather faintly, as if they couldn't quite bear to draw a full breath of frosty air. Some insect must be hatching out in the leaf litter, both under the filbert and in the piles I made when I raked last fall. Having guest accommodations at the ready is important; you never know when someone may drop by for an unseasonal visit.
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