A warbler of the New World sings in the Adirondack forests. A warbler flits in the bushes of Fetlar… Old World meets the New in a remarkable and fragile moment, a miraculous journey of 5,000km from a wind-buoyed soul that weighs a mere 10 grams. The moment is wonderfully captured in the official description of 1985.

‘It was unlike any warbler I had ever seen, having double yellow-white wing-bars, a bright green-yellow head, back and rump, and white-grey underparts. It perched on the fence with its tail erect and wings slightly drooped’

Michael Peacock, British Birds (1985) Vol 86 (2) pp 57-61

I was led to this story through a singular encounter with the very idea of the Adirondacks, and for this I am grateful to RC. The persistent image of the voice of the Chestnut-Sided Warbler in the sunlit glades of pure lemon yellow stayed with me. The connection this bird has to that Something other, and the greater realisation that this bird is fully cognisant of this fact, was striking and inspired the capturing of this moment in the form of iconography.