For the Birds

This one’s for the birds. For the bold robins and plump mourning doves, the black-capped chickadees whistling their drawn-out “yoo-hoo!” in the afternoon from the towering pines across the street. Because birds stir feelings in me. Walking my dog is always an stress-reducer, but when I spot a bright orange Baltimore Oriole or a purple finch-- maybe my only such sighting all year-- it becomes an exciting event. And the stillness of the stoic blue heron always fills me with reverence. Even on the greyest day, the appearance of a tufted titmouse brings a joy that must be shared. I recently told a friend that the highlight of my day was seeing a tufted titmouse in the wisteria outside my house. When I explained that birds are to middle aged women what World War II is to middle aged men, he chuckled and said, “I like birds, too.” We should spend more time together, I thought.

Paying attention to birds helps me feel more connected to nature. I’ll sometimes use the Merlin app to identify the players in the morning backyard chorus. Now I know we have three kinds of sparrows (song, house, and white-throated) in my neighborhood, in addition to the rowdy mix of crows and jays and mockingbirds. And on the tree-lined trail that runs through town, Merlin tells me I’m surrounded by warblers, thrushes and wrens.

Birds mark the passage of time. The Canada geese depart and the fluffy little dark-eyed juncos arrive with winter, hopping across my patio and chirping in the bushes. In the spring come the rowdy catbirds, holding raucous parties late into the night, along with the swooping swallows and tiny hummingbirds. In the summer I’ll see goldfinches in the purple wildflowers and occasionally glimpse the cedar waxwing.

Birdy can signify other things as well. The scarlet-robed cardinal is often associated with loved ones who have passed. For me, a visit from the cheery bluebird feels like a god wink.

And of course there’s the golden eagle. Enormous, majestic, a fierce hunter who soared overhead in the mountains of British Columbia and now calls me to western Mongolia. Challenging me to journey to the opposite side of the globe, into a wholly unfamiliar land and culture. Driving me to push my limits.

I hear you, Eagle. See you in twelve weeks.