Avian Opportunity

The COVID-19 crisis is actually an opportunity if we listen to the birds.

Spending hours at home, I decide to choose stillness over paralysis. I step out to the backyard to shut off all thinking and talk. The whirring sound of the ruby-throated hummingbird as it flies to sip nectar from the flowering salvia, feels like a mantra. These feisty, little creatures literally brush over me, and I am grateful for that trust. I sometimes gently bring out my camera to take a few pictures, but I cannot capture their quick wing movements with it. I just want to be the inconspicuous, nonintrusive human, eavesdropping on my avian friends. Although I am no fly on the wall, I feel included.

I see bluebirds, finches, house wrens, sparrows, and I hear them twitter away. I recede further, as I see them fly, chirp, and socialize. There’s an easy rhythm, a hum in the way moms and dads pack their children lunch, send them to school, get ready for work. Someone has to bring home the worm, and off the worm-winners go to work. There’s literally another world going on if you pay attention. The retirees sit on their perch and gossip, and they chitter chatter, while the love birds swing from tree to tree, cooing at each other.

Suddenly, I can discern that change in the twittering and chirping. The easy buzz, the hum, the banter changes to something frantic. It’s almost like an urgent message. The sounds start from afar, and the message is passed on like a baton. I sense something amiss when suddenly, everything turns quiet. There’s not a cheep, and the whole chattering community has tucked itself in nooks and crannies. Where did the busy world go?

I look up to see them approach. They’re graceful hawks or eagles So that is what it was all about. In that frightening moment, I saw advance warning and communication with camaraderie amidst the varied prey. A small glow warms my heart.

The raptors glide in large, graceful circles, and I watch quietly. After a while, the predators leave the scene without much luck, and the world comes out. The chitter chatter resumes like nothing happened, and it is business as usual. Whew, danger averted! I breathe a sigh of relief.

I decide to take a walk through the pathways meandering my town. I take a narrow path surrounded by bushes three times taller than me on both sides. Suddenly, a loud clapping sound makes me run out of the path. It sounds uncomfortably close. I quickly get out of there and scan the distance.

Perched high on trees, I witness at least a half a dozen turkey vultures. These are New World vultures. Though they do not harm humans, they do vomit as a self defense mechanism. I know they feast on carrion or dead animals, and I skedaddle out of these gourmands’ path.

Along the roof eaves, I spy several bird homes. They will stay there without disturbance or relocation. I’m gratified to see an uptick in non human lives from preCOVID-19 days. It’s comeuppance for us humans to finally take that back seat.