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April 20, 2006  North To The Nesting This morning I positioned myself next to the gravel road and looked east as the sun rose. This spot offers a view of a pasture where some mother cows and their calves are housed. (Is "housed" the right word? "Penned" seems small when considering the cows' spacious environs. "Fenced" doesn't seem applicable either because only fields and property are fenced - and stolen property, but that's not where I'm going with this. From my vantagepoint I see three ponds, the edge of a forested hill, a pasture, and a roadway; this is a fine spot from which to monitor spring's continued march. On recent mornings I've watched a coyote search for mice in the thistles at the edge of one of the ponds and make forays into the herd of cows and calves, perhaps with something besides mice on its mind. One morning nine deer passed through the pasture. At first they seemed startled to find themselves among fellow ungulates in a pasture that until now was deserted. There is drama among the Swallows as they vie for choice nest boxes along the fence line. And the welcome sight of a pair of Mountain Bluebirds also searching for the perfect home. Today a small domestic scene played out among the cows and calves. A pair of calves near the fence spotted the dogs and I, or maybe just sensed a chance for mischief, so turned on their heels\hooves and bounded off into the nearby open forest. A little time passed while I listened to the first Hermit Thrush song of spring. Then a cow lumbered toward the woods and bellowed. When she reached the forested edge her obedient offspring came out to meet her. Another cow, perhaps picking up the mild tension in the air, began moving toward the grove of trees and bellowing. Her charge did not obediently appear as did the first cows, but when she quieted down I imagined, by her sudden silence, that she too caught sight of her calf. Over and around the herd of cows and their domestic concerns unbridled avian enthusiasm was breaking loose. I listened and watched and realized the cows with their young had much in common with the activities of the birds. After all, a prime reason for spring migration is to give birds a chance to nest and raise young in the north country. So, why do the birds decide to show up here and now? Bugs! That's the answer! Millions of insects, caterpillars, spiders, flies, beetles, butterflies, ants and wasps are emerging, or about to emerge from a long winter's nap. Spring lays out a smorgasbord of flying and crawling invertebrate life so grand that it is capable of sustaining millions of birds and their growing young. To take advantage of the buggish bounty, birds perform a balancing act. Migrating birds who push the envelope by coming north early to stake out prime nesting areas must also find enough food to last through the cold days while the first hors d'oevres are being dished up. Many die when sudden cold weather shrinks the food supply. Some birds, but not all, are capable of returning to warmer areas to wait out the cold days. Energy is gained and depleted as birds attempt to hang on or move even further north. It's a heady life and death struggle. If spring progresses gently, as it has this year, then the birds are able to get down to the business of finding suitable accommodations and nest building. Some birds, especially those that never leave the area, and those with a very adaptable diet are already at the nesting game. Ravens and Grey Jays are two examples of birds that would already be in the thick of things. Others are just getting started. A pair of Black-capped Chickadees I've encountered on my early morning walks know where they will nest because they have recently excavated a hole in a dead willow trunk. A Hairy Woodpecker that began chopping into the trunk of a poplar tree a few weeks ago, has now completed its nest hole, and is waiting for some mysterious cue to lay eggs. Two Bald Eagles I've kept an eye on, and thought were already incubating, are carrying great talon-fulls of dried grass to their nest. In flight they look like they've snatched someone's blonde wig. Some birds have yet to arrive; their return hinges on a diet of invertebrate life that emerges only when leaves begin to unfurl. Such leafing out also guarantees some bird species the cover they are seeking. It will still be a few week's before they get what they want. No matter where one is at this time of year, it is almost impossible not to sense that a great deal of avian activity is occurring. And no matter how we choose to see it, as happy birds singing for the joy of being alive, or my more soap-opera-like gritty view with birdsong representing threat and taunts, the rush is on. North to the nesting! We're going north, the rush is on! To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
