The fall migration is in full swing and whether or not you walk in the wild, you can’t help but notice. It’s in your backyard. It’s in your front yard. And up and down the street. You notice this because you’re a two-fisted birdwatcher.
And you notice it not because you have binoculars in your two fists. No, you’re “naked birding” which might sound sexy, but simply means you’re without binoculars. It’s a great kind of birdwatching— spontaneous, incidental, unavoidable.
You’re walking the neighborhood, say in the morning with your dog. And you can’t help noticing the active trees. They’re full of animation. Not the quaking of colorful fall leaves in breezes—that’s to be expected—no, the leaves are alive, but they’re not leaves, they’re birds. Many kinds.
This is not about spotting species—although that can’t be helped when naked birding. Yeah, there’s the usual crew of fall warblers—Black & whites, Blackburnian, Yellowthroats, Chestnut-sided, others too. Even some jumpy Robins who won’t stay, along with the calmer ones who will. And Veeries—prone to crash into windows for inexplicable reasons. And various thrushes.
But skip specifics for now—this moment is about motion, liveliness in the trees, the fuss within and behind the leaves. You see it and think, okay, it’s fall migration again. All, or at least something, must be right with the world.
And then you see a fairly large bush that bears some kind of red berries—you never knew their names or cared much, and in this bush there are Cedar Waxwings. Not a few, but a flock.
And individuals can be made out without binocs—you see the yellow tail tips, the crest, the smooth beige body that looks more like something made of glass rather than feathers, the spunky movement and impatience, individually and as a flock—a flock with its own nervous system.
And you know tomorrow this bush will be empty of waxwings, and most of its berries. The action will have moved south and you smile, knowing this, without needing binoculars in your two fists, feeling again that at least something’s going according to plan, and this is worth a lot, this knowledge.
We were in the Gravelly Range in SW MT yesterday and the biggest surprise of all was extremely late migration of Mountain Bluebirds.. We saw several different flocks numbering up to 20 birds in one flock.. We’ve never seen them this late before.. The weather was beautiful but a lot of smoke in the air..
In response to Marc Davis’s “Q”…there’s no simple answer. Birds in hurricanes have the same dilemma and choices as people: either get outa town or hunker down and wait it out. For a more authoritative take on this, you might want to check Audubon Florida’s web page….
https://fl.audubon.org/news/what-do-birds-do-hurricanes
Thanks for the question Marc.
Q for the TFBW: Where do birds spend winter when there’s hurricanes in Florida and bad weather along the southeastern coast? Will bad weather affect bird population for next year?
Speaking of noticing action in neighborhood trees… today, saw.two Bald Eagles! Even one is a rarity in this suburban ‘hood. But two! There’s a small lake nearby, maybe they stopped to check it out. We got a phone photo, Not good, but you can see the white heads!
Have seen a few migrants Most numerous is a flock of cowbirds (50+)
Which I will be glad to see them go south
Female grosbeak stayed for a couple of days. Saw a few hawks coming by (Broadwing) and Marsh Hawk were good to see Last ruby throat seen was Wed. but others still have a few.
“….at least something’s going according to plan.” Amen. Needed to hear that.