One of the joys of rising at 3:30 am and driving on a gravel bush road for over an hour is the chance of hearing the Whip-poor-will which often sings at the very beginning of the Massey Breeding Bird Survey. Massey is on the north shore of Lake Huron.
The Whip-poor-will seemingly endlessly repeats its name in the evening and early morning. I remember being kept awake by them at boy’s camp though there are many less about these days. My grandmother claimed that they really say “Purple-rib”.
And since all this loveliness can not be Heaven,
I know in my heart it is June. – Abba Goold Woolson (1838-1921)
Thank you for the photos of the Whip-poor-will. I have heard their song, but have never identified one. In the Haliburton area ferns grow which are called bracken. Or Is bracken just a generic name for ferns?
Such beautiful pictures Miles. And so lovely to hear of the whip-poor-will.
The picture of the cedar waxwings reminds me of our cabin. They perch at the top of a dead tree like the one in the photo and swoop down over the lake in the early evening, catching dinner on the wing.
what a beautiful post,Miles,what a gorgeous place this land is,and how lucky we all are to live in this country!!!!!!!! thank you for all you do…………..