As I hiked the Lake Trail around Bond Park, I decided to take a trail that mostly goes untraveled. It launches from Bridge #9 and follows the creek toward Cary Parkway. Most people don’t even know about the trail, much less venture on it.
After crossing under the above-ground sewer pipe, my ear locked onto the unearthly vocalization of a male Veery singing quietly in the thick vegetation on the other side of the creek. Take a listen to my recording, but listen well:
After 30 minutes of chasing the bird, I finally got a very quick glimpse of it as it flew across the creek toward Bridge #9. I retraced my steps and heard the bird again at the bridge, singing softly on foreign territory. A bird that winters in eastern South America and breeds across southern Canada and our mountains, this individual put down at Bond Park in Cary, NC, the middle of suburbia with its trains and cars and ball games all audible in the distance as it softly sang. But I have an ear for this ghost bird that lives so privately. I haven’t encountered another bird’s song that draws me towards it as much as this one does. I may never get a good look at a Veery, but as long as I get to hear him sing, then I will give chase and pause to listen for its fluty, downward spiral of a song.