Monticello Park, tucked away in a neighborhood in Alexandria, is a migrant trap for warblers and other migrating birds such as tanagers and orioles. Beginning in March but escalating in April and at prime season in May, this park has a large variety and number of warblers. In 2013 from May 8-17 in nine out of 10 days there was a 100 day warbler total with some days counting over 20 different species. In early May of this year the number of warblers had exploded, already breaking that record.

This park is unusual because it has a small stream running through the underbrush, and warblers often fly down when the sun warms up in the morning to bathe in the water. This means you can see warblers all day long. Birders who are used to the seasonal malady of "warbler neck" from staring into the tall trees for hours searching for movement, are delighted that the birds are only a few feet away from them in the stream.

This neighborhood park becomes a magnet for birders, a social club and an information exchange for regulars who may only see each other for a few months a year when they gather at the park and share each day's experiences … can you believe a Black-throated blue warbler just flew right in front of me 45 seconds after I entered the park ... sighting of the first Magnolia Warbler of the season ... did you see the male and female Cape May Warblers bathing on the twigs side by side by the bridge ... or hear the Wilson's up on the ridge early in the morning but I couldn't ever find him, could you?

Tom Albright, a researcher by profession, has been keeping statistics since 2005 on the date of arrival of each warbler, the numbers by day and unusual occurrences such as the early explosion of warblers in 2014 breaking all previous records since 2005.

Albright has become the "unofficial mayor" of the park, and spends his two-week vacation there every year plus early mornings before work and quick lunch hour checks. When the regulars enter the park, they immediately look for Tom in his khaki jacket with notepad to ask what he has seen today. During the migration months Tom sends at least one email a day recording what he has seen and where. He has defined six zones in the park for easier identification of bird sightings. In addition, the park has a number of seasoned birders who share hot tips with each other or any interested newcomer on where songs were heard or speculations on the recent migration.

Tom describes it as a creeping addiction that takes place as you walk through the park listening for songs, peering high in the trees with your binoculars or watching for movement in the brush by the path. It's the anticipation of every new day with unexpected occurrences — a termite hatch in the fallen brush by the stream, the unusual early bathing at 8:30 a.m., the flurry of Nashvilles on the ridge or the lull of the interim with few warblers in sight and speculating on why.

Walking around the park you find the familiar regular birders, Mike with his tripod by the stream entering the park, Bill with new birding book about to be published and Donald roaming the trail with his camera, Glenn sitting on his favorite log waiting for warblers to land in the stream in front of him, Harry with his camera watching silently by the berm, Marty on the bridge waiting for the Blackbernian that was "just there" a few minutes ago. Everyone has a nemesis bird — can't find the Wilson's, haven't seen the Nashville for three years, just missed the Hooded yesterday and now they are gone for the year.

Birders bemoan the lack of a curb food truck or restroom in the park because once there, they are reluctant to leave for hours because of the familiar refrain "you should have been here 5 minutes ago — there was the most amazing (fill in the blank)."