vernal longings

i saw my first meadowlark of the year this morning, as i made my tired way home from work. his proud yellow chest gleamed in the early morning sun. soon enough the early mornings will be filled with birdsong, the hard frozen matutinal hours less lonely for their bright presence.
i heard a meadowlark last week, but somehow it doesn't count until i see one. the robins, of course, have been puttering about since the new year - i'm not fully convinced that they ever leave - and the starlings and pigeons have been occupying my walls as usual.
i picked up a habit for bird-watching at some point in my life. i'm not sure when it was, but i believe that it has its root in my longing for wings. i do it from the car, even. i can spot birds from the car, while driving, that most people wouldn't notice until they disappeared in a flurry of you're-too-close wings. i see kestrels, frequently, and red-tailed hawks, and hover-dancing prairie falcons. less frequently i spot the bald eagles or the big, proud goldens. the ravens and the crows and the turkey vultures are ever-present, and the swallows dance like fireflies in the summer sunset. one evening i spotted a great-horned owl as i walked to my car. it swooped low overhead and, though it couldn't have been more than five feet from my head, i could only hear the barest whisper of feathers through the air.
the seasons are filled with the comings and goings of fauna and flora, things that i recognize only on an intuitive, unconscious level - until i blurt something out that i didn't know i knew. the elk only show up in late winter, when the food higher up has run out; the baldies prefer to cruise above the prairie dog town until something gets hit, and take the roadkill rather than waste effort on a hunt; the kestrels like the edges of fields because that is where the mice are easiest to catch; red-tails prefer snakes over anything else; prairie falcons whistle when they are happy.
i know other things, too, i'm sure. i just can't think about them, or they slide away.