Changing seasons affects birders, too – Ronnie Blackwell – SunHerald.com
Of course, the birds aren’t confused at all. They have no issues of identity, whatsoever. The birders are the ones suffering from confusion. Fall birding is a different beast from the flash, excitement and thrill of spring with its bright colors and singing males showing off to their womenfolk.
Fall is a time of muted pastels and quiet migrating birds. Their passing is done with less flash and with more sense of purpose. Species that you can rely on to find riding the tips of the spring’s tallest trees may be hugging the ground cover come fall. Even this year’s hatchlings seem to know that the name of the game in fall is survival, not procreation.
After all, if you don’t survive migration’s gauntlet over the Gulf of Mexico, a winter in the predator-rich tropical rainforests of Central America, and then a return trip across the rough spring waters, you don’t even get to be a player in the real game of life.
Last weekend, Lin and I took our annual fall trip to Dauphin Island with the rest of the Hattiesburg birding fanatics. The weather was idyllic and the Island was as welcoming as ever.
It always amazes me that this little slice of birding heaven is so close at hand for us South Mississippians. We arrived on the back shoulder of the fall birding season on the Island. This year’s fall migration had crested a week before with phalanxes of birds and mobs of birders to watch them.
We were only mopping up after the big party, and most of the guests of honor were already lounging in the tropics by the time we hit the beach. But still, a long fall weekend on a barrier island with a fresh breeze coming from the Gulf just can’t be considered hard duty, even if the birds don’t show up. And, of course, birds did show.
And that’s when things got harder. I was as rusty as an old pump handle. I simply wasn’t prepared to parse the tiny bundles of gray and brown feathers that all seemed to be crosses between Orange-crowned Warblers and Carolina Wrens. Yep, they were confusing fall warblers, for sure! I headed back to the car and pulled out my large format edition of Peterson’s Field guide, published shortly after Peterson’s death.
I was shocked to find there were no Confusing Fall Warbler plates in the book. Actually, the plates themselves were still there, complete with the Ruby-crowned Kinglet lead-in. But now, they are called selected fall warblers. Who had the temerity Selected how or why a new birder might ask. If you ask this old fogey, I’d have to say that it’s just plain confusing.
Ronnie Blackwell is a writer and bird watcher living in Hattiesburg. You can find links to Ron’s storybook, The Legend of Crow-Baby and his other writings at RonnieBlackwell.com. You can email Ron at blackwellr@comcast.net
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