My consolation for arriving late at Hughes Hollow and retreating from the 
grassy dyke between the west impoundments before I could find the American 
bittern reported earlier -- some hunters who appeared to be drunk started 
shooting up the other side of the impoundment, sometimes firing their 
shotguns, loaded with blanks, one hopes, into the mud in front of them -- was 
the reappearance of yellow-throated warbler at Violette's lock.  I never did 
find them last year, though I believe others did.  At least one pair now patrol 
the sycamores on the little island just across a peripheral stream of the 
Potomac at the closest point on the river to the Violette's parking lot.  He 
sings from the top branches while she gorges like a nuthatch on the lower 
ones.

DA