He’s not our only visitor this spring. There’s been the doe with the twin fawns, the big buck, the pair of tom turkeys, the trio of hens. Fearless rabbits, squirrels gray and brown and white (the ones that fly at night), groundhogs, raccoons en familie, possums, and Noregian wharf rats. The usual populace, plus one orange toad.

Pumpkin amphibian.

Eye of toad.

No bears yet, possible bear signs; no bobcats seen, nor foxes. Signs of boars, coyote sounds. The raven’s croak, owl hoots. Some several salamanders.

From above.

The dotted line

Every expected avian: hummers, catbirds, cowbirds, jays, crows, cardinals, buntings, gross beaks, robins, gold finches, doves, thrashers, nuthatches, Carolina wrens, the pileated impact hammer, phoebes inappropriately siting nests. Turkey vulture on the lawn, red-tails parked in treetops. And, to prove spring has transitioned to summer (the calendar always lags), a galaxy of lightening bugs and another daddy long-legs every time you turn your head.

The profusion stuns, the density of biota at every stratum, here in the temperate rain forest of the Southern Appalachians. Overload of sound and scent and scene. Riches beyond tally.