Saturday, September 22, 2012, was an amazing day for
watching migrating birds. We’d had measurable snow at the Duluth airport the
night before, and strong northwest winds made perfect migration conditions for
all kinds of birds. My yard was hopping with Swainson’s, Gray-cheeked, and
Hermit Thrushes, thanks especially to a bumper crop of berries on the Virginia
creepers growing along my back fence. Those grew in all by themselves,
presumably via bird poop. It’s fun to see how birds plant seeds for their
favorite berries wherever they stop for a while. Or is it that the plants
entice hungry birds to their berries with the expectation that when the birds
take off they’ll plant their seeds via the birds’ droppings? Whether the
cleverness belongs to the birds or the plants, or is a magical combination of
both, depends on one’s point of view. Me, I can’t help but give all the credit
to the birds.
My Virginia creeper and several dogwood plants in the back
of my yard provide an abundance of berries and insects, and I spread sunflower
and white millet on the ground near my raspberries and under some feeders, and
so in addition to the thrushes my yard has been hopping with over 200 White-throated
Sparrows and a smattering of Fox and Harris’s Sparrows and juncos.
For better
and for worse, I’m right under Hawk Ridge. As thrilling as it is to see all
those hawks passing through, it’s tricky making our windows safe so when an
approaching hawk sends the little birds off in a panic, they don’t crash into
windows. So far this fall we’ve only had one window strike—a Gray-cheeked
Thrush flew into our living room window Saturday morning while Russ was right
there to witness it. He went out and got the poor thing, who was lying upside
down, a position that makes recovery from a concussion very difficult. Russ put
it into a dark box. When I arrived on the scene, the thrush was still dazed,
but both eyes were working and neither pupil was dilated or fixed, and within
ten minutes it was perky and ready to fly off again, after giving me a brief
photo op.
Migration is risky business for these birds of true northern wilderness.
My thrush was a first year bird who hatched, in June or early July, up in
northernmost Canada. From here on out until it reaches its destination in South
America, it’s going to be running a collision course, with major urban centers
all the way down. Even flying over the ocean isn’t safe. I’ve talked to many
people who were on Caribbean cruises during horrible migration events when
dozens or hundreds of birds crashed into the lights and cabin windows of these
boats—these usually take place during foggy weather when the birds can’t
navigate properly.
But enough of the birds survive the journey down and back
that we still have plenty of Gray-cheeked Thrushes. And vulnerable as all these
birds are, we can’t help but be thrilled when we see the sheer quantity of
migrants. Karl Bardon and other official counters at Hawk Ridge and a spot on
the Lester River counted 730 White-throated Sparrows on Friday, and in just an
hour and a half on Saturday morning, Peder Svingen counted an amazing 1,035
White-throats along a 2.5 mile stretch of East Superior Street between highway
61 and McQuade Road. The sparrows and thrushes milling about in my yard were
eye-catching, but what seemed to catch the attention of a lot of people walking
on the path along my backyard were the Blue Jay flocks I had all day. So much
activity is such a thrilling way to end a season. We’ll have at least a few
more great days in the weeks ahead, before migration dwindles and winter sets
in. But I gave no thoughts to the cold days ahead—how could I think of anything
other than the amazing spectacle of migration on a day such as this?