"We are the visitors in the lives of others; we visit them and we disappear!"
― Mehmet Murat ildan
I don't recall exactly when it showed up, but it was probably sometime in late November or early December. A gorgeous Northern Shrike (Lanius borealis) overwintered at TNC's Barneveld Prairie, which is right next to Vortex Optics. From the comfort and warmth of our showroom, I showed this bird to several coworkers and customers, providing a bit of ornithological education in the process of testing optics. People seem captivated by a songbird that hunts, kills, and eats other songbirds. That it maintains a larder during spring and summer adds to its macabre allure and mystique.
The genus name, Lanius, is derived from the Latin word for "butcher", and some shrikes are also known as "butcher birds" because of their feeding habits. Thus, the Barneveld Butcher Bird made its daily rounds by hunting the western draw, eventually making its way up to the row of trees that border the southwestern part of our property's pond. It even had a regular perch down to a particular branch where I would often find it in the late afternoon into early evening hours. I assume it was after American Tree Sparrows, but it undoubtedly went after small rodents as well.
For many birders the annual endeavor is a seasonal one and done ― after the FOY (first of year) tick, there's really no need (or time) to keep observing the same species over and over. One might make that argument that I'm more of a birdwatcher than birder. Any opportunity I get to add something new to my understanding of a species is part of the juice of being a naturalist. Plus, to educate others in the process is an added bonus ― sharing is caring. Having said that, I can't help but feel dismayed when someone I've given an element of tutelage to devolves into more of a chaser-birder than a birdwatcher-naturalist.
The snow has melted once again. I haven't seen the shrike for about a week and it is the time of year when they return to northern Ontario, Manitoba, or perhaps even Nunavut. I don't think I've ever had an April sighting of this species in southern Wisconsin, but it's possible. The birded bird may occasionally be aware of the presense of observers, but not the why or how of it. This shrike, however, spent its winter days utterly oblivious the fact that a spotting scope was often aimed at it from behind our showroom's windows, curious eyes upon a mysterious visitor from the north.
Happy Spring Equinox!
Northern Shrike © 2023 Mike McDowell