26 June 2013. Morriston, ON. The frantic dash and clamour of spring birding is fading and my attention now wanders. Today I visited a bog not too far from here, looking for orchids. I’m not much of a wildflower enthusiast, while I know many of the commoner ones reasonably well, I’ve gravitated towards ferns: more subtle and elegant. Today I took a friend to see if we could find and photograph Showy Lady’s-slipper orchids. They bloom a little later than Yellow Lady’s-slippers and if it’s possible, they are just a touch more exquisite. We found a few stands and enjoyed several mosquito-slapping minutes bending, crouching and stepping gingerly around soggy hummocks trying to frame just the right shot.
As we slogged and ducked through the dense tamaracks, alders and cedars there was bird song around us: White-throated Sparrows singing their “pure sweet Canada-Canada-Canada”, at least that’s how I read it, but my companion, a native of Wisconsin and until recently resident of New Jersey, believed them to be calling “old Sam Peabody-Peabody-Peabody”. This was no place for national rivalries and we agreed to differ. A handful of Cedar Waxwings shared high-pitched whistles amongst themselves and then in the distance a Common Raven chuckled. The Raven and White-throated Sparrow are both birds associated with points much further north and to have them nesting around here is suggestive of the bogs of northern Ontario; which brings me back to the orchids.
