I’ve been playing a new game this week with Betty. She’s a summer resident here who lives down by the ponds, where the branches of the swamp maples and speckled alders overarch the path a bit. When I get there, I whisper in my best sexy voice, “Betty-Betty-Betty … Betty-Betty-Betty … Betty-Betty-Betty.” Then I wait to hear the rustling of leaves.
When the rustling stops, I know that Betty is looking at me, but hiding. I win the game if I can find her through my camera viewfinder and click-off a couple of shoots, after which she departs with another rustle. She wins if I can’t find her when the rustling stops and there is no other movement.
I forgot to mention that Betty is very hard to find in the overhanging leaves because she’s only about five inches long, usually exposes only her chest and head, and looks like a flash of sunlight coming through the leaves. I also forgot to tell you that she apparently is nesting close by or has already raised a family there.
As the birders who read this post will recognize from the images here, Betty is a common yellowthroat warbler that came up from the south. She’s also a poor loser, but I bet she’s a good mother. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on August 2, 2025.)