Oriole, Sigma, Home

There are few bird calls more beautiful than the sweet whistles of the Baltimore Oriole, and there are few birds more exquisite to behold. But while I hear them several times a day right outside our kitchen door, I almost never spot an oriole, which tends to sing from hidden places high in the tree canopy. This morning, however, I heard one of crooners holding forth from a spot in the woods that seemed to be much lower than usual and, armed with the Sigma supertelephoto, I sallied forth to, no doubt, be frustrated once again. The Oriole had other plans, and as I zeroed in on the approximate location of the singer, it dropped out of the leaves, perched just above my head, and started to put on a dazzling show that featured wonderful vocals and all the right moves.