Today I looked at two Cardinals in a sleet storm. The sleet changed to snow, and the temperature dropped through the thirties, twenties and into the teens.
Then the wind started. This is Chicagoland. Another way of saying: where hell freezes over.
We’re used to it. The Cardinals are used to it. I gotta hand it to them. They’re the type that would sit through a Bears game at frozen Soldier Field.
Whoa. Cardinals, Bears; we’re mixing our NFL teams.
Sure, there’s an NFL team called the Cardinals, but they play in Arizona where it’s warm.
Little known fact: these Arizona Cardinals were once the tough old Chicago Cardinals, and played in freezing Comiskey Park on the city’s South Side.
My dad went to see them there, and bought hotdog sandwiches, two in each hand. Not to eat, although he wanted to. But to stuff inside his shirt for insulation.
A two-fisted football fan.
Back to the avian brand of Cardinals…I looked at these colorful birds and thought: you’re good-looking, red, with the pointy crest. Nobody’d blame you if you headed out of town with the orioles, tanagers, swallows and thrushes.
But you’re too ballsy.
I see other die-hards, too. Crows, Juncos and wild northern Robins that tough it out here in flocks.
And the unsung heroes: drab House Sparrows, also known as Weaver Finches. These are common worldwide, so they must be doing something right. Same goes for Rock Doves, known as city pigeons, or rats with wings. Give ‘em a break; they’re street tough.
I also see unflappable Herring Gulls sitting on Lake Michigan icebergs. Chickadees, Titmice, you know the cast of characters; you’ve got it down cold.
Plus hardheaded Hairy, Downy and Red-bellied Woodpeckers. Imagine pecking a tree when it’s frozen.
We gotta hand it to these tough birds. I raise a glass to them. I need it after walking around in the cold.
The birds don’t need that kind of help; they’re the two-fisted ones. The Cardinals, and all the others who go about their business when hell freezes over.
I began feeding my Cardinals and Doves on the ground each morning. The third day I was at the computer when I heard a tapping on my french door. I thought it was a bit early for my dad but figured that was why he was tapping so lightly. I ventured into the kitchen but he wasn’t there. I went back to work. The next day I heard it again and ran to investigate. It was two small cardinals tapping for their breakfast. It was difficult to determine if they were telling me I was late or simply expressing their gratitude! I chose to accept the latter!
Maybe I’ll fill a glass before I turn in (on this night of a historic Chicago blizzard) just to raise it to the ballsy birds. I love and admire those tough little guys.
I always wonder HOW the birds manage this bitter cold (especially where you are – here it’s challenging enough.) And, when the worst of it hits – where are they hiding out?
I really enjoy your site.
-g-
As a northern Illinoisan transplanted to northern Minnesota 10 years ago, I agree–cold tolerance is one of the MOST Two-Fisted qualities.
I say that as I look out at 33 below zero temps at the moment. My only decision….go birding or go ice fishing. As soon as we get just a little more light, I’ll pull on my boots, dump a quart of oil in the car, and see if I can find any owls near Blackberry.
I remember this all too well! I grew up in a small farming community west of Chicago and experienced some brutal winters there. It always amazes me how birds and other creatures survive as well as they do. Really enjoy your blog!!
Add to your list of ballsy birds who remain in Chicago through the winter, the human beings who stay of necessity and the others who abide by choice. My own preference is to be a snowbird, flying south in the wake of the earliest cold spell, and nesting for the duration in Florida’s sunshine and warmth.
Cold comfort from tfbw! I don’t think you know how popular with us birders in brazil. God bless u sir.
Ditto! Add a Purple Finch and two Morning Doves and that’s my backyard in Beacon, NY right now.