This past weekend marked the 2017 observance of International Migratory Bird Day. Coincidentally, it also happened to mark the 20th anniversary of Speaking of Nature. In light of these two events, I thought I would take the liberty to talk about my favorite wildlife taxon — the birds.
Twenty years ago, on this very same weekend, I wrote a column that happened to mention Migratory Bird Day. It was my third column for the Recorder, and as a 29-year old working on my first writing job, I was filled with a mixture of 90 percent excitement and 10 percent anxiety. I had just graduated from U-Mass with a master’s degree in wildlife biology and was looking for a way to make a difference.
The world was a very different place in 1997. The fact that I was a columnist at large meant that submitting my work was a rather difficult process. First, I had to write the column, and then I had to find a fax machine. Remember fax machines? There were times that I had to go to an office supply store and pay to send a fax. Other times, I could find a sympathetic business owner who had a fax machine sitting in an office somewhere. I’d dial the number, hear the crazy tones of the modems talking to one another, and then finally send my column through.
What might be easy to forget was the fact that someone at the Recorder then had to collect the fax and type the column into the computers at the other end. This was not always a smooth process, and one particular example comes leaping to mind. I had written about feeding the birds, and I wrote the following sentence: “If you’re patient, you might even get a chickadee to take seed from your hand.” When I read the column in the paper, I was both alarmed and amused to read that, “… you might even get a chickadee to take speed from your hand.” I assure you that I am not in the habit of distributing narcotics to little birds.
Over the past 20, years I have tried to cover as wide a spectrum of the natural world as possible. I’ve looked at microscopic organisms, mushrooms, moss, algae, seaweed, trees, flowers, reptiles, amphibians, insects and mammals, but the group that is best represented is the birds. I am one of those people for whom the sound of a bird’s song, or the sight of a bird’s feathers, is pure joy. My heart resonates with every flourishing move and every resplendent note that radiates outward from these wonderful creatures.
My favorite bird is the bird I happen to be looking at in that particular moment. It may be the nuthatch that I get to know over the course of the winter, the crows that come to my cottonwood tree and start up quite a ruckus if I have forgotten to put food out, or the blue jay that delights in arriving on the scene at top speed and top volume, creating an explosion of little birds that resembles a splash of water created by stomping in a puddle.
At this time of year, however, I can do nothing but marvel at the migratory birds. How is it that the phoebes show up at almost the same time every year? How wonderful is it that the same female phoebe will choose to travel hundreds of miles to lay eggs in a nest by my front door? How spectacular is the male rose-breasted grosbeak who suddenly appears and seems to have so little fear of me?
Let us not forget the long-distance migrants that simply pass through our yards on the way to northern New England, Canada or even the arctic. Some birds, like the shorebirds, are still headed north and will only have the shortest of windows to lay eggs, avoid predators like snowy owls and arctic foxes, get their families raised, and head south again before the polar world freezes solid again. We may think of these birds as “our” birds, but they may only spend a month or two out of the year in our country.
Add to that the simple fact that there are so many different kinds of birds that have adapted to so many diverse niches, and you have a winning group to be interested in. The real clincher, however, is the fact that birds can fly. As a result, they can retreat from danger much quicker than most mammals, which means that they can afford to live much of their lives out in the open. Bright feathers, loud voices and a spectacular array of behaviors should be enough to lure anyone into the birding world, like the sirens lured Odysseus. Birds simply offer a much more welcoming reward than the sirens.
I have learned a lot about birds and all of the wild things we share this planet with in the past 20 years, and I look forward to sharing my stories and observations for many years to come. If you have any requests, just send me an e-mail and I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, Happy Migratory Bird Day!
Bill Danielson has worked for the National Park Service, the US Forest Service, the Massachusetts State Parks and has participated in many research projects around the eastern United States. He has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 20 years. Visit www.speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.