A biologist once said a dark-eyed junco he was studying would come back to the same tree in Alaska every year after migrating back from the Lower 48, and that the bird would perch on the same branch.

I think it's happening now. Here, I wrote about the spiraling song of a Swainson's thrush in a spruce tree to the east of our house one year and one night ago. He's there again tonight, for the first time. Maybe it's a different dude. Maybe he really likes that tree.