"I think on a deeper level, the reason we're not more upset about the world ending environmentally is, I think all of us, in our hearts really know that we did everything we could. You know, we really ... right? I mean, we really did. I mean, think about it. We ... you know, we brought our own bags to the supermarket ... yeah, that's about it!"
— Marc Maron
Part I: May 2026 Lessons
I rarely chase bird alerts these days, but I did head to Hoyt Park in Madison for a Black-throated Blue Warbler. Of course, the universe laughed — just two days later, Dottie and I found one at the Pheasant Branch Creek Corridor. After soaking in its nifty song and gorgeous feathers, Dottie said, 'Trust the Branch!' I guess that's the ultimate takeaway. Over time, missing this species at Pheasant Branch has proven to be the exception and not the rule. Even if they slip by in spring, there's always a second window of opportunity when they head back south in the fall. Why chase?
Lesson learned, I suppose. But honestly, what's the big deal? Every county has its hardcore contingent — the birders who chase absolutely everything deemed 'worthy' just to hold onto their spot on the eBird leaderboard. The platform encourages it. Right there in the 'Explore' section, it literally invites you to 'Compare with the top eBirders in your region.' It's hard to ignore the competitive nudge.
Top birders, eh? Maybe by list size, but not necessarily by the depth of their field skills and knowledge.
True text exchange, but I changed names to protect the innocent:
Me: "Lots of disconcerting MIAs at Baxter's Hollow today."
Rudy: "Which ones in particular?"
Me: "No Winter Wrens, no cuckoos. Many warbler species that used to nest there, not present."
Rudy: "You are making me sad about the MIA birds. Marion Ketter Bale was saying the same thing to me last week. Very sad."
Me: "People are not yet sad enough."
It will keep getting worse. Or in a perverse sense does that mean better? Contemporary birding cherishes the rarity — more rarities means better birding! Right? Seldom do we contextually appreciate evolution's success stories like Yellow-rumps, yellowthroats, or Red-eyed Vireos. But even they, one day, will eventually become extinct. It's a tragedy of birding becoming a spectator sport of extinction. But if you know anything about Cosmology, the Earth eventually gets annihilated.
So is it nihilistic despair or liberating acceptance?
I'll spare you the sad data, but recently I provided an AI chatBot with this query:
- Year I was born (1966).
- All North American wood warblers.
- Current estimated population sizes.
- Rates of decline.
- Projected year of extinction if nothing is done to reverse declines.
A few were within my lifetime, and you can probably guess which.
Part II: Indian Lake Park
There's a unique bittersweetness to the end of bird migration. On one hand, waves of neotropical travelers have moved on from southern Wisconsin. On the other hand, the pressure is off! Instead of chasing a Black-throated Blue Warbler (my favorite bird), I can slow my pace, focus on the insect world, and just enjoy Nature without a checklist.
I spy with my unmagnified eye ...
Showy Orchis (Galearis spectabilis)
Such a gorgeous orchid!
Naturalists and botanists adhere to an unwritten rule: never share the exact location of a wild orchid. Though keeping secrets feels counterintuitive, publicizing these spots invites trouble. Well-meaning but misguided people often dig them up to transplant them at home, where they quickly die because the soil composition isn't right.
The Enemy lurks ...
But Poison Ivy should be eradicated from the planet!
Virginia Creeper can conceal the vile vine ...
Whenever I see a woodland trail illuminated and shadowed like this, I instantly think of Six-spotted Tiger Beetle — they use the shady spots to cool off, and the sunny spots to hunt.
Naturally, they were present ...
Unlike most tiger beetles in Wisconsin that stick strictly to sandy terrain, the Six-spotted Tiger Beetle is frequently found on logs, rocks, and foliage. In fact, they occasionally pick a favorite leaf to use as a personal lookout, spinning around on it to scan the area for passing prey.
Next up, a report from Baxter's Hollow.
All images © 2026 Mike McDowell