It has been a long, hot day, during which I had planned to do several things in the garden and accomplished none of them. In fact, I think I accomplished less than none; I forgot to water one of the front window boxes, and they really need to be watered every other day at the least. Oops.
But I have been listening to a Pewee singing his heart out all day, and a Red-Eyed Vireo off in the distance. The vireos are one of my favourite singers, and one of the first bird songs I ever learned to identify on my own. Partially because they are so easy: "Here I am. ... Where are you? ... Here I am. ... Where are you?" and so on. And on. And on.
Tonight was another treat. I thought I heard them last night, too, but tonight I am definitely sure: the nighthawks are back. I love this bird with a passion. I have no idea why, exactly. But they are very special, and they are amazing fliers. I've seen them at dusk before around here, a couple of times last summer. Infrequently, but they're around. And they make a very distinctive buzz as they fly over after dark, and I heard it tonight. It feels, for some reason, like a gift.