"Never reason the reason behind trying something reasonable. It’s the new things that bring excitement and becomes a reason for many people to fight the low phase."
― Shahenshah Khan
On February 14th during my morning commute, I saw my first Agelaius phoeniceus of the year at the cattail marsh along Mineral Point Road just before Pine Bluff. They're just a little early. First there were two, the next day there were six ― now there's a whole bunch of them clamoring away as they establish territories with song and skirmishes.
Their return is heralded by the melodic trill of males perched on cattails and reeds, proudly displaying their vibrant red and yellow shoulder patches. Against the backdrop of awakening marshlands and budding trees, these birds bring a burst of color and song, signaling the renewal of life and the promise of warmer days ahead. Having said that, temperatures in southern Wisconsin the past few weeks have been anywhere between single digits and the low 60s ― the weather is so screwed up. It's cold again today, but next week it'll feel like early May. Tiger Beetles might emerge!
C. cardinalis song has been going strong since early January, which is one of the very first phenological signs of a new year of appreciating the aves. Though outdoor hikes to natural areas have been regular weekend excursions, I haven't been padding my annual list the way many Sport Birders™ do. Since I work right next to TNC's Barneveld Prairie, I regularly get new species just walking from my car to the building. But sometimes I take a short walk into the prairie during a break. It might be interesting to do a birding non-birding year and just see how many species one can get just from a practice of incidental observation.
I know that some birders become overly competitive or intense in their pursuit of adding new species to their annual lists. There are cases where this leads to behaviors that prioritize adding new species over ethical considerations, such as disturbing wildlife or habitats, trespassing, or disregarding conservation guidelines. But hey, I've yuck'd that yum far too many times on this blog in the past, and doing so gets old. To be sure, a withdrawal from the birding community has had its benefits.
Which brings me to my why comment from yesterday's obligatory anniversary post ― why should I keep doing this blog? I suppose I still get something out of it, but perhaps I'm due for another hiatus like the one from 2019. Do I have anything more to say? Not really. Which is partly why I've posted non-naturey interests of mine the past few years. But who cares about that? Blogger is such an antiquated social media platform, too. But Facebook disgusts me and I haven't been sharing much content there, either. Perhaps as I approach 60, more and more, I'm becoming just another grumpy old man.
The true beauty of Nature reveals itself when we let go of the urge to capture and share every moment on social media or pad eBird lists. Instead of viewing the outdoors as a backdrop for content creation, simply being present in Nature can be a deeply rewarding experience. When we immerse ourselves in the sights, sounds, and smells of the natural world without the distraction of documenting it for others, we open ourselves up to a more profound connection with the environment. It allows us to fully appreciate the subtle wonders around us, from the delicate dance of leaves in the breeze to the fleeting glimpse of a shy woodland creature. These moments, unburdened by the pressure to perform for an audience, can nourish the soul in ways that no number of likes or shares ever could.
This will never change until I can no longer do so.
Hit the trail ...
Walk and breathe ...
Observe ...
Appreciate just being out there as finite mortal creatures.
All images © 2024 Mike McDowell