#57: The Essence of Migration
Finding ways to fill up your cup, be it full of coffee, seed, or insect.
I talked about migration briefly in #48 - The SNBU Sighting, in which the delightful toasted marshmallow snow bunting was pausing in his journey to the Arctic to get food and rest on a nearby roadside.
Birds that nest in the Northern Hemisphere tend to migrate northward in the spring to take advantage of burgeoning insect populations, budding plants and an abundance of nesting locations. As winter approaches and the availability of insects and other food drops, the birds move south again. Escaping the cold is a motivating factor but many species, including hummingbirds, can withstand freezing temperatures as long as an adequate supply of food is available.1
Now that it’s spring, our lovely SNBU has likely wooed a mate into his rocky Arctic cliff nest, preparing for parenthood anew. But back here in southern New Brunswick, old friends are returning in droves. With birds, this is cyclical, predictable.
I’m thinking about the purpose of migration more these days, and how apt a description it is for my own recent moves from a position of less (gratification) to one that, so far, has filled my bucket very well.
Migration is also an apt metaphor on another plane. My new job is a work-from-home arrangement, and while I still wake up at my usual schedule (with the birds), I no longer have to commute the 20-25 minutes each way to an office building or hospital.
Because of that, I’ve had to be more purposeful in my daily movements. Working next to my living and sleeping spaces makes it far too easy to slip into a hermetic existence. With the initial flurry of work travel simmering down, though, I’ve scheduled a walk during the day to move the limbs and re-integrate some of the minute travel we all do in shared office spaces. Only now, I grab my coffee and have watercooler talk with the warbler instead of a coworker.
The birds’ migratory returns have filled my bucket well, too. Just last Sunday, I spent a delicious morning photographing old, and a few new, friends in and around McCully Brook while Ben fished. Thirteen different species in total, including two new “lifers2”: numerous tree swallows, whose brilliant glossy azure and indigo feathers enamored me only slightly more than their bubbling chirps to each other.
I fill up my coffee in my kitchen, and prepare to start another work day. Outside, the chickadees, juncos, finches - their calls to potential or current mates provide the backdrop to filling my cup in this new space, with more resources than before.
The essence of migration.
Cornell University/All About Birds. The basics of bird migration: How, why, and where. (2021, August.)
The second was a savannah sparrow, of which I only got a blurry shot, and identified too late before it disappeared completely into the brush.
Beautiful photos! We seem to have less variety around here (to be honest, I don't look around enough to be certain of that!)
Do you get the "cheeseburger" singing birds in your area?
Don’t you love the kinglets? We’ve got both ruby-crowned and golden-crowned around here, though getting them to slow down enough to show their crown is tricky.