A little over a year ago, this pedometer geek birder downloaded the Cornell Ornithology’s Merlin app. For those unfamiliar with the Merlin app, it records birds based on their calls and songs. (I first learned about the app from my stepson and daughter-in-law during the summer of the pandemic although I didn’t know what it was called back then, but I digress.)
I downloaded the app right about the time of the migratory bird watch in Ohio. Nearly every morning starting in late April through June, I would put my cell phone by the window to capture the birds coming through our area. I was frankly surprised by how many different birds not only lived in our neighborhood, but how many warblers and other birds passed through the area on their way to their homes in the north. Many birds I never actually saw because of their size or their location in the canopies of trees, but if I played their songs, I would get an answer in return. I began to catalogue the feathered creatures on a Life List. Unfortunately, I haven’t got them all catalogued because of my inexperience in using the app.
Even now, I mess up when I want to add them; however, having said that, I now have nearly 140 different birds on my list and know there are quite a few that I have missed. Now that it is late spring again, I have started putting out my phone to see what is coming through our neighborhood. What still surprises me is the variety of birds we have and especially how many of them are considered rare or uncommon birds.
With the bird feeders we fill daily (birds have voracious appetites), we have our regulars (blue jays, cardinals, grackles, sparrows, and more) that I not only recognize by sight, but also now by sound. We expect a flock of cedar waxwings to descend upon our serviceberry trees any day to clear them of ripening berries, that is, if the robins will let them get near the trees.
This pedometer geek poet wrote the following poem:
Serving Berries
With the house came trees,
we kept them all except two old maples.
A clump of trees was in the mix.
What they were, we had no idea,
but they were lichen-covered and leafy.
Next year, though,
the clump brought forth
soft blossoms of white,
followed by small berries
of red deepening to blue.
Not blueberries, but serviceberries
we discovered.
And with the advent of the berries
came masked birds,
glossy winged cedar waxwings.
First, one or two who nibbled and then disappeared,
A few days later, ten, fifteen, more
flocked to the tree, covering it,
noshing on succulent fruits,
clearing the tree.
Just as quickly, they were gone,
not to be seen again
until the next year.
Now we watch
waiting for blossoms,
the berries,
then the scouts, and
finally the flock.
The timing must be just right,
too early a spring,
other birds get the prize,
too late,
the scouts report back: the berries aren’t ripe.
Today, the masked scouts arrived,
picking at berries here and there,
cocking their heads this way and that,
as if deciding.
Will they bring the flock?
Is the timing right for the birds
and for the birdwatchers?
We watch. We wait.
~Nancy Brady, 2017
44839: Poetry from a Zip Code
If you enjoy birds, check out the Merlin app. Just Google Cornell Ornithology. You might be surprised by the birds in your neighborhood. What is your favorite bird? Can you guess mine from this haiku from Three Breaths?
blue jays call
screeching for peanuts
I am well trained
~Nancy Brady, 2012
“No generative AI was used in the conceptualization, planning, draft, or creation of this work, nor is permission granted for use in AI training.”