Birding With Friends Grand Prize Winner
The old gray minivan gave an arthritic creak and jerked to a stop just as the house door swung open and Magenta’s nimble feet sprinted down the sidewalk.
She opened the door and bounced onto the front seat across from Grandma.
“Morning, Grandma,” she sang. Even though it was 5:30 in the morning and the sun was not up, her eyes were shining and her hair smoothly combed.
“How is my Magenta Wren?” Grandma asked with a twinkle. “Are you my first bird for the day?”
Magenta giggled. “I’m afraid not. I can’t fly even though my middle name is Wren.” Then in the same breath she added, “Mom said she needed to comb me before I left because she didn’t want me to scare the birds away.”
“For sure!” Grandma agreed. “No scarecrows allowed on birding days!” For today was the day Grandma and the cousins had chosen to enter the twenty-four-hour birding contest.
Up a hill, down a hill, around a bend and back, past the dark windows of the neighbors’ houses…and the gravel crunched under the tires of the rattling van as it halted again. Here on the backside of a tree-covered hill, Uncle Howards lived with the birds. Gray pines, California white oaks, interior live oaks, all native to the Sierra foothills, gave delightful habitat to hundreds of birds. Grandma and Magenta opened the van doors, and the music of uninhibited praise filled the air. The day was full of promise!
A few days before, Uncle Howard’s boys, William, Briski, and Toby, had helped to measure out the two-hundred-foot circle that set the bounds for the birding area. Seed feeders and hummingbird nectar were added.
Scrambling between piles of yard pavers and irrigation supplies from Dad’s job materials, William lugged a small fountain discarded by a client. A water hose, an extension cord—and the fountain gurgled an accompaniment to William’s cheers. Not by mistake, the children’s pool was also within the bounds of the circle. The 100°F (38°C) weather merited cooling water.
From Uncle Howard’s bird-sized house, Grandma saw Briski heading toward the birding ring with a sleepy, stiff-legged gait. William, binoculars in hand, and Toby, not one to miss out on any fun, were not far behind.
Between exclamations of, “I see one,” and “Look there!” Grandma’s directions of where to place camp chairs, ice chests, binoculars, and bird books were heeded.
With a glance at her phone, Grandma announced, “6:00! The count is on.”
“Acorn Woodpecker,” hissed William, as the ungainly fellow joined his noisy family on the electric pole. Their “Wakka, wakka, wakkas,” broadcasted woodpecker news in woodpecker language. Troublesome pest that he was, his colors were stunning. Though his habit of pounding acorns into every crack and crevice of buildings did not endear him to homeowners, he had made it to the top of the list.
A soft-yellow-bellied bird Briski pointed to on the fence, flew out, gulped down an unsuspecting insect, and returned to the fence wire to spot its next victim. “Western Kingbird,” Grandma said and added it to the list.
Then pointing to the leaning gray pine, she brought their attention to a little gray and white bird walking headfirst down the trunk. “He’s upside down,” Magenta marveled.
“I bet I could do that,” Toby proclaimed, as he stood on his hands and propped his feet against the trunk of a tree.
“Is your middle name Nuthatch?” Magenta hooted, remembering just in time to hoot quietly.
The birds seemed unfazed by the muffled chatter of their observers, but muffled rose to boisterous when Magenta announced, “Here comes Mom.” As Tedrick and Tirso, her younger brothers, tumbled from the car, everyone chuckled. Three-year-old Tirso had no concept of prolonged quiet.
“When can we go swimming?” he hollered.
“Shh, Tirso,” Magenta scolded. “Be quiet, Tirso, we’re watching for birds.”
His sparkling blue eyes made a quick glance to the treetops, and then he repeated, “I want to go swimming!”
Aunt Freda, a pot of hot chocolate in hand, arrived with Cecilia, the last of the birding cousins. Happy to see Cecilia and the hot chocolate, the cousins crowded around, sipping and sharing with the new arrivals what they had seen so far.
As Grandma handed out small tins of warm egg bake from the electric roaster, she reveled in the luxury of a whole day to surrender to the call of the birds and grandchildren. Let the laundry and the cleaning scream. She was free as a bird, just for today.
“Look at the kingbirds,” Briski urged.
“No, it’s woodpeckers,” someone differed. Then, to their amazement, a lively game of “Snatch the Bugs” commenced. Swooping kingbirds flew in and out between the churning wings of Acorn Woodpeckers. Like children in a schoolyard, the birds dove and glided past each other, feeding on insects the children could not see. In a few minutes the game was over and the birds returned to their “studies.”
“They were playing,” Tirso bubbled.
“Listen!” The soft “Whit, whit, whit” of the regally clad Phainopepla wafted down from the tiptop of a tree. His sooty black coat and jaunty crest were identical to his mate, except that she was gray. Only when they flew did they reveal flashy white underwing patches. “That bird,” said Grandma, “is the only one I can imitate. My whistle won’t whistle anything else.” Pursing her lips she demonstrated, “Whit, whit.”
Laughing, the children wetted their whistles and exhibited their skills. Even four-year-old Cecilia was much more talented than Grandma.
The list grew longer, the sun grew warmer, and the little folk returned from their after-lunch naps. Now, now they would swim! Even the shrieks and flying water from the swimming pool did not frighten the calm Black Phoebe, which flitted around the swimming pool. Demure in her black shawl, she declined to join the fun-loving kingbirds that joined the party. Over the bank they flew, and glided down to rest on the barbed wire fence, for all the world as if it were their own private water slide.
Bird by bird, the children added to the list. As the day wore on, they enjoyed observing the bird behaviors and listening to their songs, but the number of new varieties dwindled. Still, excitement ran high in contemplation of spending the night under the stars.
Lively chatter and hearty food refreshed everyone around Aunt Freda’s supper table. With proclamations of “Thank you for the good supper,” the binoculars and bird books were exchanged for pillows and sleeping bags. In a row on the ground, the boys lined up their bedding, and a flatbed trailer made a safe place for a mattress for Grandpa and Grandma. For Grandma declared, “I’ll not be cuddling up with any snake that slithers into my bed.” Magenta and Cecilia giggled as they made two small beds on the other end of the trailer.
The bird choir ceded its place to the insect symphony as daylight succumbed to starlight. There would be no moon, for the last crescent sliver dipped into the inky horizon by the time all heads rested on their own pillows.
“A shooting star.”
“I saw it too.”
“And there’s another!” The voices merged in and over each other as eyes gazed up and still up.
“Oh, there is a star moving sideways!” trilled Cecilia.
“It’s a satellite,” corrected Magenta. It was. In fact, the celestial highways teemed with the speeding lights.
“How,” asked Grandpa of Grandma, “will we get this chatter shut down?”
“Let them talk,” she suggested. “They’re all staying in their beds, and if we tell them to stop, they will only begin to worry.” The murmurs grew softer and farther apart as one by one sleep overcame them.
Through the quiet came one voice clearly, “Do you think heaven will be boring?”
Grandma’s heart nearly burst with the joy of the birds, the stars, and each precious soul around her as to herself she mused, “No, dear child, with life on earth as rich and sweet and fun as this, how could heaven be boring!”
Participants
Grandpa and Grandma and Uncle Aleck
Uncle Ted and Aunt Krista, Magenta, Tedrick, and Tirso
Uncle Howard and Aunt Freda, William, Briski, Toby, and Cecilia
Uncle Rod and Aunt Kate and baby Reagen
We enjoyed the day so much. Thank you for giving us the idea.
—Grandma
Bird List
- Acorn Woodpecker
- Western Kingbird
- White-breasted Nuthatch
- Bullock’s Oriole
- House Finch
- Black Phoebe
- European Starling
- American Crow
- Goldfinch
- Western Bluebird
- Mourning Dove
- Phainopepla
- Oak Titmouse
- Black-chinned Hummingbird
- Turkey Vulture
- Rooster
- Blue Jay
- Red-tailed Hawk
- Owl (heard at night very soft “hoo-hoo-hoo” no other screeches or calls heard) could have been Great-horned Owl or Long-eared Owl