A World of Birds

I was on my way home from the grocery store when I saw it: there on the road before me was a roadrunner. I suppose for those from this state it is no big thing, but for me it’s like seeing a unicorn. This is a bird of myths and cartoons- a bird seen in books but not in real life. But, there it was before me and I stopped my car to watch.

It ran off to the side of the road, lowering its head and tail as it ran. Then it paused and raised its head and tail before running a few steps again. The bird was on the hunt with the prowess of a Hollywood dinosaur. Its wary eyes stalked its prey and when a butterfly flitted overhead the bird gave chase, running, then hopping into the air before giving that up as a lost cause. Last I saw it was heading over a ridge into the desert running as only a roadrunner can.

At home once again I watched the birds at my feeders. The typical house sparrows, house finches and mourning doves crowded each other for positions, but then I saw something different! One sparrow had white stripes on its head—a white crowned sparrow! The first I’d seen in the canyon, and here it was at my feeder.

I’ve tried to minimize my feeders since the death of the house finches. Now I only have three, though I did break down and buy a quail block again on Friday. I’d only found one dead finch about a week after the other died until Friday when I discovered another dead finch by the block wall. Only the house finches are dying, and I have yet to find anyone who cares. I shall try emailing the Cornell Lab of Ornithology and see if they take an interest. Now that I’ve joined my local Audubon perhaps they can help. I clean my birdbath weekly with bleach and carefully maintain my feeders. I do not know why these birds are dying. If the birds weren’t drawn to my yard would I even notice their deaths?

I certainly notice their lives. They bring joy to mine. When I see the birds splashing in my birdbath I smile and watch. When the Gila woodpeckers come to my peanut feeder I marvel at their colors with their zebra striped backs, their tawny bodies and red caps. I like their laughing chatter when they fly into my yard and out again. It sounds so wild. In this tame world I need some wild.

What amazes me here in Sycamore Canyon is the variety I’m able to see. I can start my morning with Gila woodpeckers and mourning doves. Before long the hummingbirds arrive to fill up on nectar. The house finches and house sparrows are regulars, and now and then I’ll catch the flash of lesser goldfinches as they flutter in to feed. Sometimes a curved-billed thrasher hops the wall and drinks from the birdbath, or, perhaps a cactus wren or canyon towhee. The evening is when I’m most likely to see the rock wrens in my yard, but at anytime during the day I can hear their ringing call from the neighbor’s rooftops. At dusk the lesser nighthawks wing overhead in their erratic moth-like flight and deepest night brings the hooting of great-horned owls.

Here in Sycamore Canyon I am reminded daily of what is at risk as humans encroach on wild places. We deserve a place on this earth too, but can’t we be good neighbors to the wildlife around us? I, for one, do not want to live in an artificial and totally manmade world. I need stars in the sky, moonlit nights, saguaros in the desert, and tossing tree branches. I want to hear the gurgling of a creek as it tumbles over stones that flash in a rocky mountain sun. I want to always be able to hear elk bugling in autumn during the rut. I hope we always have sage grouse dancing on leks in spring and swallows in summer. I hope our world is always full of bird songs and birds.

I am Not Snow White

In the fairy tale, "Snow White and the 7 Dwarfs" the princess finds solace in nature. In her story she runs to the forest and the birds and butterflies befriend her, the trees hide her and protect her. I don't know if everyone who loves nature has this fantasy, but it certainly lurked quietly in my heart. However, 2 weeks ago reality broke through this dream for me.

I was heading out of town for the weekend and happened to step out the back door. A small female house finch was thrashing about on the ground. I picked her up and moved her onto the rug on my patio. I thought maybe she struck the window and was a bit stunned. This often happens with birds and I figured in a few moments she would regain her composure and be on her way. As she continued to flutter on the ground a small male house finch came around the corner and hopped over to her. He showed no fear of me (as I was quite close) but hopped to the female, then put his beak next to her as if to ask; "What's wrong, can I help?" Then he hopped over towards me, looking at me with his little head cocked to the side.

I only wanted to help. So, I dipped my finger in the dog's water bowl and placed a drop on the side of the poor bird's beak. She fluttered a moment, then stilled. She was dead. Perhaps she was just too injured, I thought, so I went in search of the little male who was still hopping around my small yard. I found him in the corner near the air conditioning unit. He was hopping about with his mouth open like he was panting. It was hot and sunny in that corner, so I put my hand out and he hopped onto my palm. I thought, Oh! this little bird knows I love him and would never harm him. How special I am that he trusts me! But, oh, how I deceived myself.

I brought the little red male house finch over to the patio out of the sun. Once again I dipped my finger into the cool water bowl and placed my finger above his head. He eagerly lifted his beak and tried to swallow the droplet from my finger. He barely swallowed before he tumbled over and died instantly. I stared at the limp feathered body before me, emotion rising in my throat. What had I done? Had I caused this little bird's death?

Initially I panicked. I wondered if my water was bad, or if I had chemicals on my fingers. Then my concern caused me to seek help. I started by calling my vet. This started a 2 hour ordeal of phone calls and being passed from one agency to the next. Before it was all said and done I had talked to 2 wildlife rehabilitators, the Arizona State Veterinarian , Vector Control, the Department of Game and Fish, the University of Arizona and the Pima County Health Department. They were the ones who finally asked me to place the birds in a plastic bag and refrigerate them. On Friday morning they retrieved them for testing. I haven't heard any results yet, though I did try to call on Monday.

Perhaps I will never know what caused the little finches to die, but I am left with this question: How is it that with nature, our attempts at kindness can go so awry? How little we understand this world we live in. My ignorance hastened the death of two house finches, a small thing in the vast ocean of problems plaguing the environment. It is past ignorance that is threatening our desert now.

Here in Arizona there is a vast effort underway to eradicate buffle grass, an invasive African species that was planted here years ago as forage for cattle. Now that it has spread it threatens the Sonaran desert and the saguaros because it is a fuel for fires. Before buffle grass the saguaros were mostly safe from fire since there were expanses of barren earth between them and fire could not travel without fuel. Now the buffle grass makes a fuel path straight to them, and they have no natural adaptation to withstand a firestorm.

I have heard that the definition of ignorance is not stupidity, but the lack of knowledge. Some people would say that ignorance is bliss, but I have discovered that ignorance is trouble and often I am not the only one who has to pay for my ignorance.

The Farmer's Market and the Dead Bird

On Saturday we finally went to the Rincon Valley Farmer's Market. Overhead the sky threatened a storm, but for the moment the day was still dry. We drove to Old Spanish Trail and came on the old barn where the farmer's market is held around a corner. A canvas tarp was strung over the outdoor vendors, protecting them from sun and rain. We walked among the tables with fruits and vegetables displayed in bins and boxes. At the first table we came to a man was selling homemade jams and apple butter. One particular flavor caught our eye: Hot Habanero Apple Butter. It was a combination we couldn't resist. For $5 the 18 ounce jar was ours! We soon added Sizzling Sun Relish to our cache, while we sampled numerous kinds of salsa, including some served on fried plantains!

A stroll inside the barn revealed stalls that had been converted to miniature stores where artists, crafters and vendors displayed their wares. At the entrance a local musician accompanied himself on a folk guitar. His voice wafted gently over the people who wandered in and out of the stalls.

Our first stop was at Charlie and Paul's where they had their respective art displayed. Charlie makes 3 dimensional wall art depicting adobe houses and churches. He incorporates found desert wood into his pieces, along with styrofoam covered in stucco and miniature ladders that are seen on many pueblo dwellings. Paul's creations are "metal landscaping" which means wind chimes, kinetic art and metal sculptures, like suns and lizards to hang on your house or patio. These guys were very friendly talking about their art and giving us the lowdown on the farmers market, as this was our first time ever visiting one. We wandered further down the center hall and passed out the other side where more vendors had their wares displayed on tables. We saw everything from jewelry and dog food to cloth dolls and cement benches for sale. There was still a half hour before closing but many people started packing up to leave early when a thunder storm rolled in. We jumped in our vehicle and headed to town to do errands as the rain started to fall.

We had some violent and heavy thunderstorms while we were out and about, all part of the Summer Monsoon. On the way home we had to drive over partially flooded roads, but nothing too bad. When we got home I went to fill my bird feeders. To my shock and horror I found a little house finch dead in my bird feeder! From what I observed the best I could tell was that 2 birds must have tried to put their heads into the opening to get seed at the same time. One bird got his head squeezed so tightly against the side that it snapped his little neck, for the bird's head was inside the feeder and wrapped around the edge. Since it had rained so hard, the poor bird's body was soaking wet outside the feeder but its dead little head was dry as a bone.

I had to fish the dead body out through the exterior cage that keeps the bigger birds and squirrels from getting to the seed. The wet feathers parted revealing translucent pink skin with gray organs beneath. I sent the corpse flying into the wash to be reclaimed by the earth. Then, when I took off the top to refill the feeder, I dumped the little bit of remaining seed on the ground, since wet sunflower chips can mold. A clump of seed fell to the ground that looked like it had blood pooled with it. Yuck! The only other scenario I can imagine is that the storm came on so fast and hard that the winds blew the bird sideways and broke his neck. I know that this is just life and part of nature also, but I couldn't help feel sad for the poor thing. After refilling my feeder I turned to leave and there was another dead finch on the ground next to the house. He soon joined his brother in the wash. That must have been quite a storm, and we are not through with them yet.