I’ve been spending a lot of time staring up into these branches of May: the Northern Red Oak, with its dangling catkins. As the flowers bloom and the leaves emerge, a multitude of tiny insect larvae hatch out, providing a bounty for the migrant flocks. There were a few days where virtually the only place you could find a Warbler was at the top of an Oak tree. In fact, you can find a lot of them, but they may not be easy to identify, zipping in and out of view seventy feet up, silhouetted against the sky. It’s neck-breaking work, but nothing says “May” like a treetop bursting with green flowers and bustling with singing birds.