Big, bright birds signal spring is here

Migratory birds soon will flood into our region, eager to begin their annual ritual of selecting territory and finding mates. Many will stop only briefly on their way farther north. These short-term guests include most of the tiny warblers that flit quickly over bark and leaves in their hunt for energy-rich insect larvae.

Several kinds of flycatchers, most of them small and dressed in taupe or olive-colored plumage, hunt from tree perches for flying insects, hoping to catch a quick meal. Other spring migrants include the sweet-singing (but drab) thrushes and fast-flying swallows.

But I have to admit a fondness for the return of big, flashy birds, the visible ones that couldn't blend in with the foliage if they tried.

The bright orange-and-black Baltimore oriole, about the size of a cardinal, settles on the top of a tree, frequently near water to whistle his beautiful song. Males often engage in territorial disputes, chasing each other to and fro, making themselves even more conspicuous. These handsome birds are among the migrants that stop and raise their young in the metro area, and are known for their intricately woven nests hanging at the ends of branches.

Sweet-singing grosbeaks

Another good-sized bird shows up suddenly at feeders in mid-May. The handsome rose-breasted grosbeak, one of the sweetest singers on the block, sports a black back, white front and a rose-red bandana around its neck. You'll have to look closely for these cardinal-sized birds, however; even with such a high-contrast coat, they can be strangely difficult to spot.

A burry song from a tall tree signals the scarlet tanager's return. About the size of a cedar waxwing, the tanager is an almost unbelievably neon-red bird. You won't confuse it with a cardinal because tanagers lack a crest, and their red is so much more intense. The tanager's all-black wings are another distinguishing mark that says, "I am so not a cardinal."

Indigo buntings will soon return from the Caribbean and Mexico to settle into our fields and roadsides. The small and beautiful deep-blue males, about the size of a goldfinch, can perch invisibly right above your head. They stand out only in sunlight, when their feather structure reflects the light, appearing brilliant blue.

Billions of birds are winging into North America, eager to carve out some real estate as their own. They risk the long, arduous migration in order to take advantage of our region's bloom of summer insects and longer days for foraging. They'll stuff insects down their youngsters' gullets, raise their young quickly, and by the time fall rolls around, they'll be ready to head southward for another winter.

Enjoy the migrant birds -- and their bright feathers -- while you can, because these purposeful creatures are with us for only a short while each year.