It was Sunday, March 5, and I was up early to watch the morning crowd arrive for breakfast at my birdfeeders. The days were lengthening, the eastern sky was already quite bright, and it looked quite pleasant outside. Thus, the lonely number 2 on the thermometer’s digital display seemed unreasonable.
Four days earlier, the high temperature at my house had reached 70 degrees! But this is March and no weather change can be described as unreasonable, or unseasonable. I headed over to the wood stove and lit a fire.
By 7:22 a.m., the sun was well up into the morning sky and pouring into the house. It shone hot on my face, but the temperature outside had only risen to 8 degrees. My parents and my sister had come for a visit, which meant that they would also be up soon. They have dogs that live by strict canine schedules and when 7:30 a.m. rolled around, it was time to go out. I was amused to see that the dogs’ interest in the outside world was most definitely curtailed by the unexpected cold and they found the warmth of the wood stove just as alluring as any sane person would.
At noon, after a long, lazy morning filled with good food and wonderful conversation, the dogs decided it was time for another walk. The walkers leashed themselves to the dogs and we headed up the driveway and took a left, heading west. We had only just gotten started when the call of a bird put me at full attention. What in blue blazes was a killdeer doing here on a day like this?
The killdeer is a beautiful member of the plover family that has the delightful habit of nesting in temperate inland locations. It’s a species that can be found in every one of the lower 48 states and all of Canada’s southern provinces. There is even a part of its range that extends up into Alaska. In the winter, the bird’s range retracts to the southern half of the United States. Then, sometime in February, they start exploring the possibility of moving northward, for they always seem to arrive in Mass. sometime in March, which always seems early.
I have one particular memory that illustrates this point. A killdeer was hopefully exploring a patch of green grass at UMass. The grass was lush and vibrant because it was located just above an underground steam pipe. The problem arose when one realized that it was snowing and the patch of grass was a long line of green in a world that was otherwise white. The bird paced up and down this verdant strip, but the world beyond the steam pipe’s influence seemed less than welcoming.
A gust of cold, biting wind snapped me back into the moment and I was again on the road just a little to the south of my house. The killdeer that had taken flight had somehow eluded my sight, but its distinctive call had allowed me to track its movement to the north and then around us to the east. We all commented on the surprise of this bird’s appearance, then resumed our walk when the dogs became impatient.
I was the first to catch sight of the movement on the side of the road in front of us. It was a second killdeer, most likely the second member of a pair that had traveled together in the hopes of finding a nice piece of land to call their own. The presence of the dogs eventually proved too much for the bird and it, too, took to the air leaving the admonishment of “killdeer, killdeer” behind.
Prior to that Sunday, the earliest I had ever seen a killdeer at my house was March 10, which seems equally unreasonable. On the other hand, just two or three weeks can make a big difference at this time of year. By the time April arrives, I’ll be talking about phoebes, tree swallows and flowers.
Killdeer must probe and test the landscape, exploring the limits of the snow and moving in at the earliest possible date. Before long, they will be sitting on eggs and by May those luckiest among us might actually catch sight of their adorable chicks toddling around the quiet edges of our influence, making the world a brighter and more beautiful place indeed.
Bill Danielson has worked for the National Park Service, the US Forest Service, and the Massachusetts State Parks. He has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 19 years and he also teaches high school biology and physics. Visit www.speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.