Great crested Flycatcher, Bell

The annual spring bird migration is on the wane, and now my attention is turning from the hard travelers who are just briefly passing through to the birds that will stake a more permanent claim on our ridge and nest here. Among the nursery-makers is one of my favorites, the Great Crested Flycatcher. GCFs are good-sized songbirds that tend to stay just out of sight in the upper reaches of the trees, but never out of ear-shot, since their song—a trio of loud, raspy notes translated as "Wheep... wheep... wheep"—is aurally unmistakable. The males sing just about all day, but getting to actually spot a GCF is a comparatively rare event. However, at least one of our neighborhood trees is late leafing out, so as I combed the branches with the Sigma supertelephoto serving as an spotting scope stand-in, my patience and persistence were rewarded with an image of the splendid bird about ready to let loose in song. It's happy wheeping—no tears necessary.