On a hike through Tommy Thompson Park in Toronto near the end of May, I noticed a bird sitting in a tree. It was small in size and yellow in color: a female Orchard Oriole.
She sat on an exposed perch with a long piece of grass in her mouth. Was she collecting nesting material? She turned her head this way and that. First to the right.
And then to the left. What was she looking for?
Suddenly, a male Orchard Oriole appeared on a branch just below the female. In contrast to the female’s rather drab plumage, the male’s feathers were colored dark red and black.
He sat in place for a minute, then did something strange. Bending over, he pressed his wings down and exposed the richly colored plumage of his back.
Was the female impressed with this display? When the male looked to the right, she turned her head to the left.
When he looked to the left, she turned her head to the right.
Perhaps they weren’t hitting it off. The male, impatient, soon flew away. The female was alone again, with the piece of grass in her bill. Did it have a slightly bitter taste, now that her suitor was gone? How much longer would she sit there, waiting for the perfect mate?