Wild Birds of Maine

Emma sighed. "He does seem like a nice guy."

"And it looks like he's got a nice body. I bet he's a runner."

"Stop it."

"Honey, I'm not saying you ought to screw him. I'm just saying a little time with a male who doesn't have feathers might do you some good."

"I already said I would go, Bev."

"Great. Well, I hope you get lucky."

"Bev! I am not going to sleep with him."

Bev laughed. "I meant getting a picture of the bird," she said.

Emma blushed and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, honey. I was just teasing you."

"It's alright."

"Okay, then. Let's lock up and get out of here."

****

After supper, Emma went to the barn and took out her camping gear; her tent, sleeping bag, LED lantern, camp chair. She loaded it all into the trunk of her car, then went inside and prepared her backpack, so in the morning she could just grab it and go. It was a routine she'd developed for the many birding trips she and Greg had taken together.

She read for a while and went to bed early. It was muggy when she woke up in the morning. She checked the weather forecast on her phone. Near record high temperature and humidity were predicted.

She took a cool shower, then returned to her bedroom to dress. She pulled a pair of denim shorts from her dresser drawer, thinking they would be ideal for the hot weather, but as she tugged them on, it occurred to her that whatever she wore to work, she would be wearing to Zach's house, and the shorts were truly short, and just a little bit tight. They might send the wrong message. She stripped them back off and found a pair of canvas shorts that were longer and looser.

As she stashed her pack in the car, she realized that she was really excited to be going on a birding expedition, of a sort, even if it was just to Winterboro. It wasn't until she was nearly to the store when it occurred to her that the last time she'd gone on any sort of excursion, it was with Greg.

Business was steady all day, and she had little opportunity to think about Zach or his mystery bird. But as closing time drew near, she began to feel jittery.

Bev came in just after five. She looked Emma over and shook her head. "A little makeup wouldn't have hurt," she said.

"It's not a date," Emma replied, rolling her eyes.

"Nope, it's just having supper at his house, and then sleeping over."

"In my tent!"

Bev laughed and hugged her. "Am I being too pushy?" she asked.

"Yes!"

"I can't help it, it's in my nature. Now get out of here."

Emma kissed Bev's cheek and headed for the door.

"Be good!" Bev called after her.

She had no trouble finding Zach's house. It was a pleasant little bungalow on the edge of the village. Zach was standing in the doorway when she turned in. He waved and held the door open for her.

"You're right on time," he said with a smile. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just some water, thanks."

He went to the kitchen to fetch the water. Emma looked around the living room. It was well kept. She was pleased to see that he owned a lot of books, but blushed when she realized what Beverly would say about her noticing.

Zach brought her a glass of water, then ushered her through an archway into the dining room.

"Why don't you go ahead and sit down," he said, "Supper is just about ready."

"Wonderful," she said, sitting and taking a sip of water. Zach went back to the kitchen and emerged a moment later with two plates of pork tenderloin, roasted potatoes and green beans.

"I guess I should have asked if you are a vegetarian or anything," he said.

"I'm not. It all looks lovely," Emma said.

"I'm not a great cook," he said, sitting across from her, "But I get by, and I wanted to make you something special because I appreciate you doing this."

"Thank you, but I am very excited about it myself."

"I know, but still, I feel like I'm taking you away from your family..."

Emma shook her head. "I live alone."

"Oh... I thought..." He gestured toward her hand.

Wearing her wedding ring was such an ingrained part of her life that it took her a minute to understand his point.

"No. I'm a widow," she said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up anything sensitive."

Emma took a bite of her pork and stared at her plate. After a moment she said, "Greg had a severe case of Lyme disease. When we both caught Covid, I only had mild symptoms but his immune system was so compromised that he couldn't fight it."

"Oh, Emma..."

"They took him away in an ambulance, and I never saw him again."

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, wiling herself to hold in her tears. She felt embarrassed to show her emotions in front of Zach. He had invited her to share a pleasant meal, not to have her baggage dropped on his table.

She forced a smile and looked at him. "What about you?" she asked, "Have you ever been married?"

"Oh, yeah, I was married," he said, obviously relieved at the change of subject, "I'm divorced."

"I hope I'm not the one bringing up a touchy subject now."

He shrugged and waved his hand dismissively. "No, it's no big deal. We just had a difference of opinion, that's all."

"You got divorced over a difference of opinion?"

"Yeah, we couldn't agree on how many other men she should sleep with."

Emma started to laugh, but caught herself.

"No, go ahead and laugh," Zach said, "I meant it to be funny."

Emma began to feel more relaxed, and could sense that Zach did as well. He was very interested in the store, and in her photography, and she was pleased that he did not try to dominate the conversation with talk about himself. It was all just small talk, but it was the most extended conversation she'd had with anyone in the past year.

Emma looked out the window. The sky had turned `indigo. "I ought to get set up before it gets any darker," she told Zach.

"Okay. Let me help you."

They went to the car and fetched her gear. Zach picked up the folded tent. Emma took her pack and sleeping bag, and followed him around the house.

She surveyed the backyard. It was no more than a half acre of lawn, edged with trees and underbrush. She noted the species, spruce mostly, a few oaks mixed in, along with a small stand of birch. By habit, her mind started listing the birds most likely to be present.

The bird feeder hung on a shepherd's crook about twenty feet from the backdoor of the house.

"Where do you want to put up your tent?" Zach asked.

"That's east?" she asked, pointing toward the left rear corner of the yard.

Zach thought for a minute. "Yes," he said, "At least, that's where the sun comes up."

"In other words, east."

"Yeah."

"I get it," he said, grinning, "You don't want to be shooting into the sun when you take pictures."

"Exactly. And as far away from the feeder as possible. We want to change the bird's recognized environment as little as possible."

Zach followed her instructions and carried the tent to the far corner of the yard. He knelt down and started to fumble with it.

"Here, let me," Emma said. He took a step back and she had the tent up in less than a minute.

She stashed her gear inside. The two of them stood and looked awkwardly at each other.

"I guess I'll let you get settled in," Zach said.

"Yes," Emma replied, "I'm going to be getting up awfully early."

"Well, I'll see you in the morning." He turned toward the house, but halfway across the yard he turned back and said, "By the way, I'll try to be quiet but let me know if I disturb you, okay?"

"Sure, no problem." She watched him go into the house, wondering what he might do that would disturb her. She shrugged and then walked over to the bird feeder. It was about two thirds full with what looked like an inexpensive store brand; millet, cracked corn, sunflower seeds. I'll make him up a custom mix when I see who he's feeding, she thought.

She went back to her tent and tied back the front flaps. There was just enough head room for her to sit down crosslegged inside it. Looking across the yard, she was satisfied with her view of the feeder.

Taking the LED lantern from her pack, she turned it on and looked through the rest of her things. She knew her camera was fully charged, but she always double checked. There were two bottles of water in the pack. She pulled one out and took a drink. There were a few nutrition bars and a ziplock bag of trail mix, but she was still full from her dinner.

She uncrossed her legs, removed her shoes and socks, then raised her hips and pulled off her shorts. She had an oversized New England Patriots t-shirt rolled up in her pack. She took it out and started to unbutton her shirt. When she realized that Zach could see her if he looked out his back windows, she turned around to face the rear of the tent. She removed her shirt and bra and pulled the t-shirt over her head.

When she finished changing, she set her clothes aside, got up on her knees and unrolled the sleeping bag. Her inflatable pillow had been tucked inside of it. She blew it up, then stretched out on top of the bag. It was going to be a muggy night, but if it got cooler later, she'd get inside it. For now, she was hoping for a little bit of breeze to cool her off.

She lay on her side, propped her head on her elbow and positioned the lantern near her head. She had the latest Barbara Kingsolver novel with her. She read for a while, munched on a few handfuls of trail mix, and was thinking about shutting off the lantern and going to sleep when the music started.

It was brief and sounded distant. She thought it had come from a passing car. But then it began again and she realized it was was coming from someplace nearby. She listened more closely. Someone was playing a saxophone.

She looked outside, but could only see darkness beyond the glare of her lantern. She shut it off, turned on to her stomach and looked out of the tent.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, she saw that there was one illuminated window on the second floor of the house. She could not see Zach, but his blurred shadow was visible on the far wall.

The window was closed, muting the music. She could not see or hear an air conditioner. He has be sweltering, she thought, realizing that he had closed the window so his playing would not disturb her.

She rolled on her back, closed her eyes and listened. After a few minutes of wandering, a familiar melody emerged. She smiled to herself when she recognized Gershwin's Summertime.

The sound of his playing was soft and sensuous. It seemed a perfect match for the sultry evening. She got caught up in it, letting her mind drift. Without any conscious intent, her hand slid between her thighs and her fingers traced lines over her underpants. As she softly caressed herself, the fabric grew damp. She pictured Zach, sitting on the edge of his bed, playing his sax. She imagined his fingers, deftly working the keys, his lips slightly parted around the mouthpiece. She rubbed herself more firmly, and her breath deepened, but when the music stopped, she realized what she had been doing and pulled her hand away. Feeling oddly embarrassed, she rolled on her side and went to sleep.

CHAPTER FOUR

Emma's phone buzzed at five, rousing her from her sleep. She stretched, yawned, then listened. Robins were out early, calling out in celebration of their morning meals. Somewhere in the distance, a chickadee was greeting a sun that had not yet arrived.

She turned on her side and squinted toward the feeder in the dim light. Something was moving on the ground below it. A mourning dove, she assumed, gleaning fallen seed.

She knelt and rolled up her sleeping bag, then lay down in a prone position, using it to prop up her shoulders. She took the lens cap off her camera and focused it on the feeder. A nuthatch was hanging on it, pecking at the seed. She snapped a couple test shots. The light was not optimal, but it was adequate. All she could do now is wait.

She looked up at the house. All the windows were dark. She thought about Zach playing his saxophone and she thought about her response. You're a thirty seven year old woman who hasn't had sex in almost two years, she told herself, of course you're going to get horny once in a while. It's not something you should feel bad about. You had dinner with a nice man, an attractive man. It was a hot night, the music put you in an amorous mood, that's all there is to it.

Streaks of sunlight filtered through the tree branches behind her. The grass glistened with dew. Here and there, she saw small white circles on the lawn. When she was a girl, her mother had told her those were fairy rings. When she was older and learned that they were really spiderwebs, made visible by the moisture that collected on them, she thought they were even more wondrous.

There was more activity at the feeder. A house finch and a pair of chickadees took turns on its perches, until a bright male cardinal shooed them away. When he had eaten his fill, the chickadees returned, along with a titmouse who landed on the top of the crook and awaited its turn.

Emma looked around the yard and felt a flash of excitement when she spotted a flash of yellow in the brush, but when she focused her camera on it, she saw that it was a pair of goldfinches.

Her stomach grumbled. She ate an energy bar and took a few drinks of water. She realized that she would have to go to the bathroom soon.

The cardinal's mate came to the feeder, and the nuthatch returned. The goldfinches came and ate, and then, once again, the chickadees.

Eventually, Emma resigned herself to not getting a picture, at least not this morning. She needed to pee badly, and she had to drive back to MicMac Falls in time to open the store.

She found her shorts, pulled them on, then slipped into her shoes, not bothering with her socks. Her hips and shoulders felt a little stiff, so after climbing out of the tent, she did a few stretches.

The chickadees and a pair of grazing mourning doves scattered from the feeder as she crossed to the house. She climbed the porch steps and tapped lightly on the back door. When she heard no response, she stepped into the kitchen.

"Zach, are you up?" she called softly.

"I'll be down in a minute," he responded from upstairs.

"Okay. I need to use the bathroom ."

"Sure, go right ahead."

When she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Zach stood at the kitchen counter, setting up the coffee maker. He was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt. I wonder if those are his pajamas, Emma thought and then wondered why she had.

"I'm really not a breakfast guy," Zach said over his shoulder, "But I could make something for you if you'd like..."

"No, that's all right," Emma said, "I'll get something later."

"I'm assuming there was no sign of our little friend, otherwise you would've probably come in the house shouting your head off."

Emma sat down at the kitchen table. "Yes, I suppose I would have."

Zach brought two cups of coffee to the table and sat across from her. While she was adding cream and sugar to her coffee, he turned in his seat and looked out the window.

"I can hear some birds singing out there now," he said.

Emma cocked her head and listened. "The loud one is a cardinal," she told him.

"It's really cool that you know them all by their songs. What's the other one?"

"A finch. House finch, probably. I saw one this morning. Could be a purple finch, they are hard to tell apart."

"I'd love to be able to do that."

"It's not hard to learn, especially for a musician."

A sheepish look came over Zach's face. "Oh. I hope I didn't disturb you. I tried to keep it down."

"It was fine. I enjoyed listening."

"Well, it's kind of a commitment to myself, you know, to play at least a little bit every day."

"Are you in a band or anything?"

"No, not anymore." He hesitated. "Kim and I were in a jazz combo together."

"Your ex-wife?"

"Yes, she's a terrific singer."

"Have you thought about starting a new group?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Why don't you?"

"I live in Winterboro, Maine."

Emma stopped herself from asking him why he stayed in a small northern town, when it seemed like he'd be happier in Portland or Boston, but she sensed it was not a topic he would be comfortable discussing.

She reached into her pocket and took out her phone. She opened an app, then handed it to Zach.

"This is called Merlin, it's free from the Cornell Ornithology lab. It identifies birds by their song. After you've used it for a while, you'll learn to recognize them on your own."

"That's really cool," Zach said. He went over to the window and held the phone up near the screen. "How do you use it?"

"Just press Sound ID, then the record button."

"Okay, I'm going to test you," he said. He looked closely at the phone for a few minutes.

"That's the finch again," Emma said.

"Right."

After a string of yowling calls, Emma said, "Catbird."

"Damn, you got it faster than the app did."

"Tufted titmouse."

"Damn it," he said with a laugh, "Wait until I ask them."

Somewhere high in the trees a crow cawed.

"That doesn't count," Zach muttered, "Too easy."

There was another snippet of song, a high trilling melody. Emma frowned. She did not recognize it.

Zach looked back at her. "You don't know this one?"

"No," she said, "It sounds somewhat like a song sparrow, but it's something else. What does Merlin say?"

"It doesn't say anything."

"Put the phone right up to the window," Emma said, her excitement rising.

She joined Zach at the window. After a few seconds, they heard the song again. When it stopped, Emma waited a full minute, then took her phone back and ended the recording.

"Why didn't Merlin know that bird?" Zach asked.

Emma looked up at him and the corners of her mouth rose in a grin. "Because nobody ever recorded one before," she said.

****

A steady stream of customers kept Emma busy all morning. Bev and Lily arrived at noon, bringing her a chicken caesar salad for her lunch. She took it in the back room to eat. Lily sat across from her at the work table and unwrapped a club sandwich.

"So did you find your mystery sparrow?" she asked.

"Not exactly," Emma told her, "I didn't get a picture, but I got a recording that might be it. The song doesn't match any in the Cornell database."

"That's cool. So what are you going to do now?"

"I was thinking I could set up a game cam. But I really want a high resolution picture, so I'm going to camp out again tonight and try again in the morning."

"What are you going to do with the recording? Are you going to send that around to some bird experts?"

"It's just on the app. All I can do is check it against the database."

Lily shook her head. "You can download it and send it to anyone you want."

"I have no idea how to do that."

"I do. Let me have your phone."

Emma handed it to her. After a few minutes of scrolling and tapping, she gave it back.

"Okay," she said, "There is an mp4 file in your documents folder titled Mystery Bird."

"Wow. Thanks, I appreciate that."

"No problem. I do that kind of thing for old people all the time."

Business was slower in the afternoon, and Emma was able to compose an email outlining her conjecture that she may have found a living Bartlett's sparrow. She attached the sound file and two of Zach's clearer pictures, then addressed it to the Cornell Lab, the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, and the national and Maine Audubon Societies.

Before she could hit send, a customer came in. She took the time to serve them, returning to the email once they had left. She reread it, then saved it to Draft. She did not want to contact anyone with conjecture. She would wait until she could claim a confirmed sighting.

At five o'clock she closed up the store. She had told Zach that she would bring supper, so she stopped at MikMac Variety and picked up a pizza before heading to Winterboro.