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| Spotted Towhee by Mike Carroll |
Sharing a backyard wonder
(published 3-18-19)
My birding bucket list is mostly in my head and hopelessly
long. It contains birds I want to see, places I wish to go and milestones I
hope to achieve. For some items, I’ll need some big-time luck.
One aspiration, for example, is to host a rare bird in my
yard—an accidental tourist, the showier the better, and one that hangs around my
feeders for at least a week. I’d invite birders from near and far to come see
my special guest. They’d sign my guest book. We’d gab about birds and gear and
trips. I might even serve coffee and donuts.
The scenario isn’t so far-fetched. I’ve been on the visiting
end of backyard “stakeouts” several times, most recently this winter, when
Warrenville homeowner Kate Hopkins hosted a spotted towhee. Her generosity
enabled dozens of birders to experience a western species that for some was a
new tick on the life list.
Kate first noticed the towhee at her feeder on January 21.
She initially figured it was an eastern towhee, which itself would be a notable
sighting in the dead of winter. But after applying the Merlin ID app she realized
it was a spotted and posted her discovery on eBird. That alerted area birders,
many of whom wanted to stop by for a look.
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| Front door sign at the Hopkins residence in Warrenville |
“There was zero hesitation,” Kate said. “I couldn’t wait to
share.”
She did not have to wait long. In a few hours the doorbell
rang.
“There are two young men standing at the door. Their cameras
and binocs gave them away but they say, ‘We’re here about the rare bird.’ My
husband and I just looked at each other and laughed. We found it
delightful.”
That moment, Kate said, was the start of “a fabulous
introduction to the birding community.”
Incoming birders were directed to Kate’s side yard by a
handwritten note on the front door, complete with a photo of the wayward towhee.
Her busy feeding station offered plenty to see while waiting for the main
attraction, including a handsome Carolina wren.
Observing the spotted towhee was just a matter of patience. My
wait was only 20 minutes—quite fortunate since the temperature was slightly
below zero. Others waited longer or had to return for a second or third try.
Kate has no idea how many birders stopped by—she works
during the day—but tracks in the snow indicated a steady flow of thrill seekers.
Some left thank you notes, birdseed donations and even a box of Earl Grey tea. Others
showed their appreciation by sharing photos of her avian celebrity and posting thankful
messages on the Illinois Rare Bird Alert Facebook page.
Everyone was gracious, grateful and respectful, Kate said.
“There was not a single negative interaction. I would do it all again in a
heartbeat.”
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| Varied Thrush by Emil Baumbach |
Kelly Oliven from Palos Park recalls a similar experience
when a varied thrush discovered her feeder in January 2018. Like Kate, she welcomed
visiting birders after realizing the bird was something special. What came next
took her by surprise.
“At one point we had 20 cars parked up and down the street,”
she said. “The local newspaper came and even the TV news (FOX32). People came
from as far as six hours away in southern Illinois.”
Kelly wisely notified the local police about the situation
and credits her neighbors for being understanding. The “circus” lasted about
six days, during which Kelly got to know the visiting birders.
“I got out there as much as I could to chat with them and
just loved every minute of it,” Kelly said. “The camaraderie, the information
sharing . . . I had no idea that people took this so seriously.”
I didn’t attempt to see Kelly’s varied thrush. At the time,
a mad dash to Palos didn’t fit my schedule. Besides, I’d seen the species once
before—not in the Pacific Northwest, where it belongs, but in Evanston.
That’s correct, I owe my “lifer” varied thrush to a
different backyard stakeout six years ago. I remember that Sunday morning well,
standing in a snowy alley, my toes almost numb, gazing over a neck-high wooden
fence into the homeowners’ private space. My cold, lonely vigil lasted about 90
minutes before the target bird took pity on me and flew in to the platform
feeder. Instantly, my feet felt warmer.
The 2013 Evanston varied thrush was my 500th life
bird. To Jason and Judy on Cleveland Street, thank you again!
Copyright 2019 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.
