The problem with having competing interests is that oftentimes, one of them has to take a back seat to the other.

Such is the case with me, anyway. My other passion in life – horses – tends to take up much of my time, and it often isn’t possible to combine it with bird watching. Dealing with an incredibly perceptive, quick and powerful animal that often weighs more than 1,000 pounds demands one’s full attention at all times.

However, the practice of keeping horses preserves and even creates habitat for birds – habitat that might otherwise be lost to development and completely paved over with concrete. Structures built for horses often attract barn swallows to nest; open grassy pastures attract killdeer and other ground foragers; and the trees surrounding the property provide shelter, nesting habitat and foraging areas for a number of songbirds.

While I may not be able to walk around with a pair of binoculars when I’m at the barn, I still enjoy birding, especially now that spring is here and migrants are returning.

Last week I attended a horsemanship clinic and as I sat observing the participants and listening to the instructor, the sweet whistles of a red-eyed vireo provided perfect accompaniment.

The song originated from a small copse of young birches, backed by a thicker patch of more mature deciduous trees, at the edge of the property. The new leaves, lime green in color, seemed to twinkle in the bright sun as the breeze fluttered through them.

The vireo, tireless, sang throughout the morning. I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone else noticed the bird, and, if they did, knew what they were hearing.

Much has been said of this vireo’s proclivity for endless singing. In the Peterson’s’ “Birding by Ear,” series, author and narrator Richard K. Walton comments the bird sings on and on, even through the heat of the day, “when most self-respecting birds,” have fallen silent.

The “Birds of North America” species account contains a humorous quote from nature writer Bradford Torrey, dated 1889. Commenting on the bird’s persistent and monotonous song, Torrey said, “I have always thought that whoever dubbed this vireo the “preacher” could have had no very exalted opinion of the clergy.”

The Peterson’s “Birding by Ear” guide describes the red-eyed vireo’s song as sounding as if it is saying repeatedly, here-I-am, where-are-you? There are many variations to this basic song, giving individual birds close to 50 different songs in their repertoires. And, they may sing as many as 85 songs per minute.

Now that is stamina.

Red-eyed vireos are common throughout much of North America. I’ve always had great views of them on visits to Baxter State Park, and once I had a glimpse into the family life of a trio at Birdsacre Stanwood Wildlife Sanctuary in Ellsworth.

I watched as an adult vireo repeatedly brought food to its two fledglings. The youngsters begged so vigorously and continuously, I imagined sweat pouring off the parent as it frantically darted about catching insects for its voracious young.

Finally, the parent brought a huge dragonfly and stuffed it into one fledgling’s beak. This quieted things down a bit as the young one tried to figure out how to handle such a large food item. Eventually, it dropped the dragonfly to the ground, defeated, and resumed its begging.

This vireo is one of the more successful birds of late, as its population numbers seem to be on the increase, despite our negative impacts on the environment. While it does not seem to be affected by small forest clear-cuts, and other forestry practices, it takes a long time to recover from large-scale disturbances. Other human-caused changes, such as television and radio towers, also impact it. Migrating vireos, which fly at night, often collide with these structures.

In fact, according to the BNA, they are “among [the] most common species killed at Florida towers, where there is a report of 280 Red-eyed Vireo casualties in a single night at a Jacksonville tower.”

Considering all the dangers – either human-made or otherwise – a migrating bird faces, it seems nothing short of miraculous any of them make it at all – even if their populations are healthy. Thinking about the bird that serenaded us at the barn last week, I was grateful it had survived the trip.

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