Amid the Thrush's Song

With every place I visit, with every drive I take, with every bird I see, there opens in me something grand and undiscovered. I find a sense of content excitement at the beginning of every new adventure. This is the feeling of memory creation: the sense that, in some time from the present moment, I will look back on what I am experiencing right now and remember it. Remember it fondly, or disdainfully, yet vividly all the same. I can travel back in time by simply closing my eyes and thinking back to all the wonderful, frenzied moments I have lived. 

This summer brimmed with fresh faces, places, and experiences. I crisscrossed the country and had opportunities of a lifetime. I connected with inspiring beings of all species, basked in the splendor of Earth's variable beauty, and learned a myriad of new lessons, including about myself. I took only the best away from everything I encountered, and I feel invigorated by the scale of my ventures. 

To begin my travels, this June, I flew to South Dakota for my father's wedding. While out West we also visited  Colorado and Wyoming. The states were in close proximity to one another, yet offered unique possibilities for discovery. Colorado's Rocky Mountain National Park is a breathtaking cathedral of nature; the winding roads carve paths through mountains, forests, meadows, and tundra, the homes of many wonderful beings of sky, water, and earth. Herds of Wapiti ( Cervus canadensis ) step their great cloven hooves in the streamside grasses and stubby tundra vegetation. Their children kick and leap in play while their mothers keep a regal watch over the games. Bulls, with their velvet-covered antlers reaching from their foreheads, gather in the fields for early evening browsing. 

Bull elk

The bulls were in an all-male herd

Wapiti cow

Young wapitis

Mule  deer ( Odocoileus hemionus ) pick their careful way between the fir trees, quietly perfecting their forest knowledge. On one of our hikes, a doe was our silent guide as we walked; we saw her multiple times along the trail. Higher on the tundra, at an elevation of approximately 11,000ft, Yellow-bellied marmots ( Marmota flaviventris ) were entertaining companions at roadside stops, as well as on the road: we witnessed a pair in a fierce scrap as they tumbled towards the side. Horned Larks ( Eremophila alpestris )  flitted about on the tundra, their calls softly penetrating the breezy lull of cold silence present at such elevation. 

Marmot surveys the tundra

Overhead, Common Ravens ( Corvus corax ) croaked and soared, surveying their mountainous realm with dignity. It was a moving sight to behold, the ravens suspended in midair over the shadowed blue expanse of lower mountains and the vast blankets of trees that covered them.

Clark's Nutcrackers ( Nucifraga columbiana ) were inquisitive and energetic as they hopped quite close to their Homo sapiens  observers. With stunningly white secondary feathers and black primaries, they glided about with their sails spread, reminiscent of their relatives the crows. They swept to a stop on boulders and dead snags with the great forests behind them. Golden-mantled Ground Squirrels  ( Spermophilus lateralis ) scurried alongside them, even climbing onto the palm of my brother's outstretched hand.

A hike near Long's Peak was a surprisingly spiritual experience; I had much trouble with the elevation and breathing became a bit difficult with my asthma, yet I decided to push through it and continue the hike. Woodpeckers with their lessons of self-care and hummingbirds with their message of joy appeared to me as I trekked. A Broad-tailed Hummingbird ( Selasphorus platycercus  ) was a life bird for me as she buzzed near the base of a tree. Steller's Jays ( Cyanocitta stelleri ), their plush ebony crests bobbing as they raauchh'd at me, were strikes of brilliant azure in the early evening light. Their white eyebrows and barred tails were stunning; I had always wished to find these birds and there, on a mystical mountain, I was visited by these sturdy forest fairies.

Hermit Thrushes ( Catharus guttatus ) built a nest by a rushing mountain stream, surrounded by the cascading trills of their fellows. The thrushes' dreamlike notes twinkled in my ears and tickled my soul. Bubbling over pebbles and past lush vegetation the stream descended as I climbed. 

At the summit, where the trees began to dissipate, a most spectacular sight awaited me: the most vast, the most beautiful, the most awe-inspiring view of the fabled Rocky Mountains awash in golden sunlight. The warm glow reached every tree, every rock, every cloud. The cerulean sky faded to a light orange-pink on the horizon as my shadow stretched forwards, down the mountainside. After the harrowing trip to the spot, I could find no better reward for my effort.The Rocky Mountains were a fantasy destination for me; somewhere I never thought I'd be. And yet, standing on the top of a sunlit mountain with Long's Peak behind me and the spiraling voices of  Hermit thrushes filling the air, I felt beautifully, remarkably alive and peaceful, content with the moment I was in, the memory I was creating. I often close my eyes and return to it, reliving that sunset as vividly as when I first saw it.

Peace always,

~Kristina

Mountain Magic

            

The stellar’s jay swept up into the conifer like a spirit, dark and sudden and mystic. Cobalt feathers shone with an inner glow, for the cloudy skies offered little light to illuminate his plumage. A finely barred tail flicked, the bird shifted on his perch, and then his face was there. Ebony black with a thought of azure, his head bobbed under a remarkably plush crest. Brilliant white strikes above his eye and bill accented his smart look, an outward expression of the intelligence within. Sprightly and confident was he as he fluttered down on fairy wings to stand on the dry bed of fallen pine needles, black feet sturdy on the sienna surface.

            Around him, cascading twirls of the most effortlessly beautiful music twinkled through the trees; the hermit thrushes were singing their praises. Timidly the notes wove delicate spirals, their tender notes caressing the air. The melodies filled the forest like fresh dew as the songs answered one another with tinkling shyness.

            A bubbling mountain brook joined the chorus as it rushed over pebbles and by boulders. In a conifer not a few steps from the water, a thrush was building her nest. She flitted up with a large stick held steadfast in her dainty bill, and arranged it to her liking among the others she had woven. Her partner in his nervous manner did the same, his robust breast puffed with pride at the task. The pair traded places; she flew out just as he flapped in with a new twig. They were busy and could not be deterred.

            Meanwhile, a harried mother mountain chickadee was hopping frantically, ever aiming to satisfy the incessant cries of her child. Though he was fully fledged, his hunger was begging to be satiated by his mother, and she could barely keep up with his demands. The forest was alive with the sounds of growth. The trees whispered as they reached skyward, the only direction they knew. Paying no mind to the quickly gathering thunderheads, they continued in their sure yet steady path into the heavens where, in time, the feathered beings who inhabited their branches would spread wings and dance  among the clouds.

© Kristina Polk 2012 • comment if you'd like!

Worlds Away

originally posted on the American Birding Association's The EYRIE blog

Manakins

Dusty skins and tired penmanship do not conjure particularly inviting images, though they are quite beautiful when given the chance. Cold, muffled steps down corridors and through bright rooms filled with jars and boxes and cases. The belly of the museum is brimming with quiet fascination; a new discovery behind each door and wall. 

The Cleveland Museum of Natural History hosted the Ohio Young Birders Club on a snowy late January morning, giving the members an incredible look at the wonders of the collections housed past public entry. Led by the knowledgeable Andy Jones, Director of Science and Curator of Ornithology, the group was first shown the skin of a recently deceased Common Loon. Her left wing pinned separately from her cotton-stuffed body, the bird managed grace and mystery even in death. She was surrounded by the skins and wings of a female Rose-breasted Grosbeak and a chickadee. Andy explained the reasoning behind the relatively recent practice of separating the birds and wings: when the skin dries, it becomes stiff and immobile. A researcher would have no way of looking under the wing if the bird was preserved with its wings folded. In order to provide a more extensively useful specimen, one wing is removed and pinned separately. 

Additionally, small tissue and organ samples are preserved for select birds. This loon was represented in one of the many freezers by tiny sections of her heart and muscle, potential resources in future ornithological breakthroughs. Skins, however, are the most common way of preserving birds and Andy showed off a female Ruddy Duck, a male Hooded Merganser, and an Eastern Screech Owl. Finally, a most unusual bird was presented: a "gynandromorph", or a half-male, half-female individual. True to its bi-gender designation down to the reproductive organs, this Northern Cardinal was strikingly bilateral in its appearance.

Half female, half male NOCA

Next, Andy moved the group to a larger room, where boxes lay stacked, concealing endless elements of bird, reptile, and amphibian skeletons. Andy chose to exhibit a Sandhill Crane skeleton, paying special attention to the keel. Sandhill Cranes, he taught, have a special adaptation in their breastbone to project their unmistakable trumpeting song as far as possible. Their tracheas pass through the keel in an immaculate curve, causing the entire bone to reverberate with their song and add strength to the sound. 

Male Cocks-of-the-Rocks

Male and Female Lovely Cotinga

After the lesson on cranes, Andy led the birders to perhaps the most exciting portion of the museum: the vast collection of approximately 30,000 bird specimens from all corners of the globe. Upon the opening of one of the many white uniform metal drawers, an explosion of life burst forth. Colourful and exotic birds of all shapes, sizes, and taxonomical placements met the eyes of the eager visitors, their diversity astounding. A row of brilliantly orange and black Cocks-of-the-Rocks lay alongside charismatic manakins of all sorts, including Club-winged and Red-capped. Cotingas such as the striking blue Lovely Cotinga and his cryptic brown female counterpart were in the same drawer. A puzzling creature with a curiously set wattle was a curious sight: the White Bellbird. In order to preserve the vulnerable skin of the long wattle, a stick had been inserted and so the wattle dried in a stiff, upright position, rising from the face of the Bellbird like a fantastical unicorn horn. 

White Bellbird

Club-winged Manakin

Imperial Woodpeckers

Peering over the shoulders of the birders as they examined the beautiful birds were two of the rarest and most talked about of them all: the Ivory-billed Woodpecker and the Imperial Woodpecker. Giants among their relatives, the woodpeckers possessed stunning ivory bills and magnificent crests. The mere presence of their skins was enough to send ripples of exhilaration and wonderment through the group. Legendary in status, the Ivory-bill is central in an ongoing debate over its existence, while the extinction of the Imperial remains generally unchallenged. The uncertain fate of these remarkable birds degrades not their mystique, and perhaps only lends might to their charm.

 

Giant African Hornbills and breathtaking quetzals were next displayed, along with a variety of amazing hummingbird species. The Giant Hummingbird is the world’s largest, while the Swordbill is the only bird whose bill length is greater than the body length. A Chimney Swift was shown as well, its long, tapered wings crossed over its back, framing needle-sharp tail tips built for stability as it nests on vertical surfaces.

Parrots and parakeets followed, as well as an impressive Kakapo. A large, flightless, nocturnal parrot endemic to New Zealand, the Kakapo nests in indentations in the ground and these indentations will be used by generations of birds to come. Andy taught the differences between parrots and parakeets; parrots have short, generally squared tails, while parakeets sport long, angled tails. Lastly, a Barn Owl was displayed, the soft edges of her flight feathers amazing in their adaption to silent flight.

Kakapo

It was then time for young birder Lukas Padegimas to give a short presentation in the entomology department. His enthusiasm for the creatures was palpable as he spoke. He shared stories of his Alaskan travels and the insects encountered and even the few he collected and brought back as specimens. These specimens now bear his name under their pins and are possible new species.

After Lukas’ talk, Andy returned to his daily work as curator and the birders headed to the café for lunch. They were free to explore the remaining halls of the museum and socialize. A chance to talk and spend time with fellow young birders is always welcomed among the teens and what better place to do so than among such a rich collection of artifacts and animals. All who visited had an outstanding time and learned so very much about some of the world’s most intriguing species.

Through the well-preserved array of bird skins, many of which have uncertain origins due to their age, the young birders and their adult companions had the chance to be educated in ways not possible without such preservation of specimens. Museum collections are truly a vital resource in the preservation of and education about our avian neighbors. 

~ Peace always,

Kristina Polk ~