Mulberry Jam

Poor, doomed tulips

So here we are, it’s April 28, and the forecast high today is… 93 degrees.

What’s wrong with this picture?

My tulips, which just came into full bloom on Friday, are frying in the heat. Mark and I are running around with garden hoses as though it were July. We’re running the air conditioner around the clock with the shades drawn to keep out the hot sun. I have such a sense of dislocation as I look out the window. Experiencing this heat when the leaves aren’t even fully out feels very strange.

I distract myself by watching the birds, who are deep into their springtime dramas by now. Who needs a soap opera or reality TV show when I can watch the daily action of the birds?

The House Wrens arrived last week, and a male has already claimed our garden as his own. Not without a fight, I’m afraid. On Sunday he had to battle with a late arriving male. The two of them chased each other around and around, whizzing through shrubbery and circling the tree where the little Wren house hangs at top speed. Because all Wrens look alike to me (sorry), I’m not sure who won, the original bird or the latecomer. But now there’s a solitary male once more singing his lungs out throughout the day. I’ve seen one female check out the house so far, but she was non-committal. Very cool, these House Wren females. I can’t tell yet whether she’s decided to take up residence or hold out for a better offer.

The Catbirds moved back into their summer quarters on Monday. I was delighted to see their sleek Cary Grant selves hopping around in the vegetable plot, eating ants. And we have also welcomed our usual spring migrants. The White-throated Sparrows and Eastern Towhees visit every April, but move on by the end of May.

I saw an interesting bit of courting behavior among the Cardinals a few days ago. A young male who’s moved into the garden was singing to a female on a fence line. As I watched, a second female darted down, swooping close to the male and perching on a post just above him. She began to sing a song I’ve only heard males sing before. Then she enticed him to a nearby tree, away from the hapless first female. As he watched, the new female sang softly but continuously while gracefully stretching out first one wing, then the other. Then her tail feathers. The whole performance reminded me of an alluring fan dance.

Things are hot around here in more ways than one!