March is an exciting time for birders. It is a time of great change and transition. With each passing day, migratory birds are returning, and with them, the promise of thousands more in the months to come. Now is the time to tune into the steady procession towards the spring equinox, and observe the bird’s response to the increasing intensity of light.

It started as early as the first week of January: the chickadees began calling out more, and the cardinals did, too. By the third week of the month, the calls of the cardinals transitioned to a few short song notes. Soon, I heard the woodpeckers drumming, and in the afternoon, the house finch formed a small chorus in my front yard. On Valentine’s Day, there were more — white-throated sparrows, dark-eyed juncos, American goldfinch, and blue jays joined in vocalizing.

At the feeder, I now notice some changes in the behavior of certain species. Throughout the winter, the chickadees arrived in a closely associated group accompanied by white-breasted nuthatches, tufted titmice, and downy woodpeckers. The chickadees began flocking together in October, and the other species joined them in order to take advantage of their ability to find food. I see that these winter flocks are now breaking up, as they sense the light and the oncoming breeding season.

Out back, in my woodlot, the barred owls are now on the nest, and their hooting is a regular nightly occurrence.

Owls nest early so their young can take advantage of the abundance in prey as spring advances. They are the voice of the winter night, sometimes eerie and at other times inspiring. Their haunting calls speak to us from another realm.

Farther from home, the red-winged blackbirds have returned to the wetlands, where the males will soon be singing from the withered cattail stalks of last season. I often see them swaying on the ocher stalks, their chests ruffled and extended as they call out “kirka chee, kirk, kirk a chee.” They come and go freely, leaving the icy wetland in search of nearby feeders, where seed or suet may supplement their diet.

In the large pines, another early migrant can now be found: pine warblers congregate in the evergreens to search for food. Listen for their persistent trill, which resembles the song of the tiny chipping sparrow. Pine warblers are rarely found away from pines and are identified by their small bodies, yellow head and breast and two white wing bars. It is the only warbler that regularly eats seeds; the pine warbler will eat millet, sunflower seed chips, peanuts, and suet from hanging feeders.

In the soggy meadows, an odd-looking bird can now be found searching for earth worms. The woodcock is famous for its acrobatic courtship flight; poets have described its flight and peculiar call throughout history. This plump hen-sized bird with the long, slender beak arrives on cool, damp evenings in March and early April after traveling from South America. The male performs his courtship or “sky dance” by ascending in spirals, and then, when just out of human sight, diving in a free-fall and safely landing where it took off.

Across the county, the pulse of life is quickening with the new light. Now is the time to find boisterous red-wings, curious pine warblers, hungry owls, and courting woodcock. These are just a few of many overlooked miracles taking place this month; yet they prove that if you look, you can see so much more than you ever thought possible.

Robert Tougias is a Colchester-based birder. His new book, "Birder on Berry Lane," is now available everywhere. You can email him questions at roberts90gtias@yahoo.com.