On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring

After surmounting a bit of morning mist, the sun rose over the creek to greet, not to say help create, a clear dry last day of May 2011. No Purple Martin morning song this morning (maybe I slept through it) and no Willet at the top of the dead cedar by the pond. Everyone was, it seemed, waiting for my arrival. The martin colony was so quiet that I thought that the birds had deserted when suddenly they all seemed to pop out, chirping and twittering en masse and dashing over the creek and marsh to look for sustenance. And then, as I left the pond precincts to head into the marsh, the Willet came sprinting through the air at eye level and at top speed, coming straight at me and veering off only at the last second. He (one assumes that such an aggressive bird would be a 'he') then did a 180, rising up to chase three crows moving along the shore line. After another 180 and a second pass at me, he landed in the dead cedar, confident that he done his duty and succeeded in chasing off all dangerous intruders.

A little later, as I worked my way along the upland part of my regular morning round, I heard an unfamiliar call from the tree-tops which I guessed to be a cuckoo. Not the cuckoo-clock cuckoo (that's the European bird, the one that lays its eggs in other birds' nests) but one of our own two species. And as I was looking for the bird, a full-out Yellow-billed Cuckoo call came ringing from another direction immediately followed by an unmistakeable large-sized and long-tailed bird flying across an open space and into the trees on the other side. With a little effort (and some help from the cuckoo which, although well hidden in the leaves, moved enough to give its position away), I was able to get my binoculars on it. As I was noting the yellow lower bill and reddish wing patch. another cuckoo flew in, landed just behind the first, offered her a caterpillar and then mounted her from behind. The whole spectacle lasted no more than a few seconds. Cuckoo #2 flew off followed shortly by cuckoo #1 still holding the caterpillar in her beak. Not only had I heard the first cuckoo (or cuckoos) in spring, I had had the rare privilege of bearing witness to cuckoo love!

Eric Salzman