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| Kirtland's Warbler by Christian Goers |
(published 6-15-15)
I used to be smarter, or felt like I was, because The New Yorker arrived in my mailbox
every week, a gift from my generous mother in law. I read only a small
percentage of the pages and scanned the trademark cartoons. But I never missed “The
Sporting Scene” pieces by Roger Angell, the legendary baseball essayist.
I still retain Angell’s 25-page account of the 1991 World
Series, an epic seven-gamer claimed by the Minnesota Twins. The last sentence
is a gem: “This World Series is over, and we can watch its departure only with
gratitude and wonder—a great ocean liner, brilliant with lights and music and
the sounds of celebration, slipping off down the dark waters, not soon to come
this way again.”
What does this have to do with birds and birding? Well, it
dawned on me that Angell’s prose could also apply to the exceptional spring
migration we just experienced. As it
trickled to an end around Memorial Day, the words gratitude and wonder seemed
to fit perfectly.
Truth is, I’m a little sad. It’s June and I miss May.
Surely I’m not alone. Birders were spoiled rotten last
month. Every spring migration is good, sort of like pizza, but I think most
would agree that 2015 was a cut above. If
you longed for warblers like cerulean, Connecticut and mourning, this was your
year.
Opportunities to witness these and other coveted species
were abundant if you had the time and the gas money. I was a bit short on the
former, so I settled for following most of the daily excitement vicariously.
Not once did I make it down to Montrose on the Chicago
lakefront—generally the hottest of the area’s hot spots. Highlights on the
beach included snowy plover, piping plover, red knot, whimbrel, American golden
plover and black-necked stilt.
Montrose’s famed Magic Hedge produced several 25-warbler
days and even a photogenic least bittern. Most fantastical of all was the
two-day appearance of a Kirtland’s warbler, one of the rarest birds you could
ever hope to see in this region. First spotted May 16, it provided wonderful
views for throngs of thrill-seeking birders.
Up the coast in Evanston, a violet-green swallow made a
brief appearance May 9, just 10 days after flock of 104 American avocets held a
meeting on Northwestern’s beachfront.
An out-of-place loggerhead shrike spent a few days at
Chicago’s 63rd Street beach the last week of May.
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| Blue Grosbeak by Jackie Bowman |
Not all the action was along Lake Michigan, of course;
DuPage had its own share of avian excitement.
Fermilab hosted a scissor-tailed flycatcher for several days
in mid-May, plus blue grosbeak and black tern—quite a handsome trio. One of my
favorite sightings this spring, a barred owl, also occurred at Fermi as I
walked around during my son’s “Saturday Morning Physics” class.
I tried and whiffed on the Fermi grosbeak but the next day
was able to see one at Morton Arboretum. Apparently there are several blue grosbeaks
at the Arb and possibly a nesting pair. Chicagoland is a little north of its
usual summer range but blue grosbeak sightings are increasing around here. One
was reported at Elsen’s Hill in Winfield, too, on May 28.
A week before, also at Elsen’s, a birder detected no less
than five Connecticut warblers. The preserve also attracted a cooperative prothonotary
warbler that many were able to hear and see.
Observers on two occasions in May spotted a Mississippi kite
drifting over the county, a reminder to always keep our eyes on the skies.
Let’s face it, spring migration can be exhausting, and not
just for the birds. As watchers, every day is filled with opportunities and
choices. In May especially, we struggle just to keep up with the online
postings of fellow tribe members.
This spring I slowed things down a bit and cut back on the chasing.
The price was a lot of missed birds—feathered treasures that slipped off down
the dark waters. On the upside, I spent less time in the car and more time enjoying
my backyard.
Three pine siskins were still visiting the thistle feeder in
late May. Will they ever go north? Could
they nest here?
A pair of house wrens hung a No Vacancy sign on the wooden
nest box and now fill the whole block with their loud, bubbly song. (I was
wrenless in 2014 and felt cheated.)
My grape jelly feeder failed to attract the birds I
expected. Instead of orioles or catbirds, a male cardinal is the surprise customer—first
time I’ve seen that. And yes, that crazy robin I’ve mentioned before is still snacking
on fallen peanut fragments in the grass.
One of my best spring memories will be Family Night Out at
Cantigny Park on May 15. The theme was birds and we lucked into a perfect
evening for anything outdoors (including prom pictures!). The kids painted
little birdhouses and then my friend Joan and I took the families on short bird
walks. Children and adults alike were thrilled to see their first indigo
buntings, Baltimore orioles and rose-breasted grosbeaks. It was like the birds wanted to be seen and heard.
That, for me, is the magic of May—the best time of year to
share the joy of birding. It is our World Series and tickets are free.
Best of all, unlike baseball, the hobby doesn’t go on
hiatus. We keep birding, no waiting for pitchers and catchers to report. June
may not be as colorful and exciting as May, but there’s still plenty to see and
learn. Hint: make a point this month to
visit a grassland habitat.
For watchers, every time of year holds promise. The
gratitude and wonder never stop.Copyright 2015 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.