Wednesday, December 13, 2000
|
Wednesday, December 13, 2000 |
|
A birdie in the hand By
SALLIE SATTERTHWAITE The crash was heavier than anything I'd ever heard against the glass wall of our house. I looked up just in time to see a hawk glance off and fly slowly, low, around the corner of the house. A broad band on his tail was all I glimpsed before he was gone, making me believe he was a red-shouldered. I ran outside without putting on shoes and, after checking to be sure there wasn't also a wounded songbird on the deck, clattered through the leaves around the side of the house to see if the hawk had made it. Smaller birds that hit the glass typically seek a branch and just sit quietly for up to an hour after such a mind-fogging collision. But there was no sign of the big bird anywhere in our wooded lot, nor even a feather left as a calling card. Since we strung garden netting taut across the glass several years ago, we have reduced from dozens to just one the number of birds killed by flying into its invisible surface. Ironic, we know, that drawing birds to the house with feeders could have such an unintended outcome. There's similar irony in the fact that the feeders attracting songbirds also provide a banquet of little birds for predators like hawks and neighborhoods cats. The strident scolding cry of jays or a sudden flushing of cardinals invariably signals the arrival of one or the other in our yard. The cats we chase. The hawks, perched on a limb to target their lunch those we savor as avidly as we do kinglets and warblers. Times change: When I was a kid, I remember too well, hawks were good only for shooting. Dave participates each month in Project FeederWatch, a Cornell Lab of Ornithology program in which he and more than 15,000 other avian aficionados jot down species and numbers of birds seen at home feeders over a period of two days. The data yield ongoing information about the shift of bird populations throughout North America. I wonít swamp you with facts look 'em up yourself at http://birds.cornell.edu but their recent newsletter, Birdscope, supported what a lot of birders had concluded for themselves, that last winter fewer birds than usual appeared at backyard feeders. Researchers attribute this to warmer temperatures and the fact that food remained plentiful further north. As a Kansas participant sighed, "Another mild winter, and consequently, a boring FeederWatch." A number of familiar species, like ground-feeding towhees and dark-eyed juncos, were in decline, but there were more than usual evening grosbeaks, white-breasted nuthatches and brown creepers. We noted the same thing here, with nuthatches never seen here in the previous decade in residence for the past couple of years. Look elsewhere in today's paper for a story about the Christmas Bird Count this Saturday. Coordinator Brock Hutchins would like to hear from people willing to participate. I have to tell you, it's not a day to start a new hobby. To be of value to this annual one-day census, you need to be an experienced birder, willing to be out for at least several rather strenuous hours, rain or shine. Or do as we do, and spend just a couple of hours in the comfort of your home with binoculars trained on your own backyard. And if you have property that counters can traipse over, let Brock know that too. He's looking for a variety of habitats where birds may be seen. Birding, if you hadn't noticed, has become the fastest growing outdoor recreation in North America, according to a Cornell report. Fifty to 60 million Americans now describe themselves as bird watchers. If you're one of them, you'll appreciate a story in Birdscope's autumn issue, demonstrating this increased interest in our wild neighbors and the savvy of those who care about them. John Fitzpatrick, a director of Project FeederWatch, wrote that he often combines two of his passions by listening for the background songs of birds while watching golf on television. On a Sunday afternoon late this summer, he was cheering on Tiger Woods in the Buick Open in Pontiac, Mich., and noted to his delight the songs of wood thrush, hermit thrush, mockingbird, even a white-throated sparrow, heard over the commentary. Great birds for a southern Michigan golf course, he thought. The following week, however, he heard the same birds at the PGA Championship tournament in Louisville, Ky. "My response was repeated in living rooms all across the country: 'No way!' There isn't a white-throated sparrow within 800 miles of Louisville in August!" Two realizations rocked his faith in live TV, he said: (1) that the network was playing bird recordings and (2) that "The producers had no idea and apparently didn't care that they were supplying erroneous biological information about the place they were televising, yet this was a live broadcast." He and hundreds of others showered CBS with complaints about "nature-faking," as Fitzgerald calls it. A senior spokesperson told him that producers had no idea "so many viewers actually listen for and think about the sounds of nature behind the golf swings. CBS vowed to abandon the use of dubbed sound and will now use only the sounds they get from live microphones." What some folks won't do for a birdie.
|
