I got home at 6 o’clock in the evening and had two hours of daylight left.

Did I have enough time to change and get to the park for a bird walk? Or should I sit around the house and do nothing?

I wouldn’t be writing a bird column about that evening if I chose the latter, so yes, I decided I did have enough time to look for some birds before it got dark.

It had been a long time since I had taken a decent bird photo, so my goal was to get one on this walk despite not having a lot of time. I didn’t care what bird it was, I just wanted to capture a good image. 

As I pulled into the parking lot, I started making odds in my head about what bird would present itself for a good photo opportunity first. I was about 90 percent sure it would be a catbird. They are reliable sightings all throughout the summer and often are not shy about being seen. If not a catbird, I thought, perhaps a song sparrow, mourning dove or cardinal. But catbird was definitely my best shot, I figured.

The walk started out rather slowly. The first bird I heard in the brush was a Baltimore oriole chattering away. It was clearly very close, and I thought it would pop out of the brush and give me a chance at a decent photo. So much for a catbird, I thought, an oriole will be my first subject. No such luck, however, as the oriole never showed itself and stopped chattering as I continued along the trail.

I heard cardinals calling to each other with their high-pitched chip notes but never spotted one as they remained well hidden in the thick brush. A little further along the trail I heard a northern house wren uttering its aggressive chatter call. (Remember, they aren’t just house wrens any longer.) This will be it for sure, I thought, as this northern house wren will certainly come out of hiding and defend its territory. Again nothing. 

I was about halfway through my walk, and I had heard but a few different species. The only views I got were birds ducking into the brush or flying overhead. 

Finally, I saw my first catbirds. The quest is over, I was quite certain. But even this wasn’t to be. Two catbirds teased me as they flitted among the branches of a tree already darkened by the shadows. In a rarity for catbirds, neither one of them came out into the open, not even for a moment. 

Things were looking bleak, and it seemed like I may fail in my quest to get a decent bird photo as I turned the corner to enter the field. Other than a few brushy patches and tall trees, the field was the last stretch before getting back to the parking lot. I did have a brief moment of hope when I spotted a female common yellowthroat in a bush, but like all the other birds before on this evening, she stayed well within the confines of the thick branches and leaves.

When I came to the first brushy area in the field, I heard an eastern towhee singing its “drink your tea” song. I was surprised to hear it singing, as I figured by this time of year it would only be using its call notes. 

As I got closer, I spotted the towhee dart out of the brush and land in a tree about 20 feet above my head. It immediately started to sing again. That was my big break, and I took advantage. They weren’t prize-winning photos by any stretch, but they were good enough to satisfy my evening quest. I never would have guessed eastern towhee would be the first bird I got.

As I continued through the field, I spooked a flock of about 30 American goldfinches that were eating seeds among the tall grasses. How could I have not seen 30 goldfinches as I approached, I thought. Then, they all landed a few dozen yards away and disappeared again. None of the birds were eating the seeds from the tops of the tall grasses and weeds, but rather the lower plants, making them invisible to passersby.

It was dusk by the time I got home. It had been a very satisfying past two hours. I’m quite sure much more so than if I had decided to stay home and do nothing.