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| Last Light on Bergen Peak |
Bergen Peak’s high summit has been streaked with eternal snow all year long and the mountain’s east face is displayed like a silver facade. Ribbons of gray clouds fill the sullen sky, creating a forbidding flyway. During the transition between seasons, a mighty wind is funneled down through the foothills’ many drainages. It’s as if the powerful breeze banishes the current, lingering season and brings forth the stubborn, new one. After such a cold and stormy winter, the still frozen lakes and ponds have delayed the arrival of our feathered migrants. Despite harsh conditions, the first birds I’ve seen were a flock of famished American robins. The long flight apparently infused the red-breasted marauders with a voracious appetite. The birds were observed on the rocky slopes plucking blue berries from the fringes of a fresh juniper bush. The robins’ signature calls betrayed their frantic activity that added some color and interest to an otherwise dull and lifeless landscape. I can tell it won’t be long now before the rest of the clan arrives and raises a raucous over nest construction and territory defense.
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| Transition between seasons |
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| Wind is funneled through a drainage |
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| Streaked with white snow |
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| Robins were first to arrive |
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| A voracious appetite |
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| On the fringes of a juniper bush |
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| They added color to the landscape |
