Writers note, please note, I have missed a recap or two in July. I apologize for the delay. I am not pointing any fingers, but being stung by a wasp is no walk in the park. So here is the recap for this week’s bird banding session:
“…summer means an influx of juvenile birds. Most of them are endlessly awkward. Flying is still a learning curve, and feathers are still growing out in all directions…”
Common Yellowthroat, male
July 20th, 2024:
In days past or geez, it was more like weeks, it wasn’t sunburning hot. It was uncomfortably hot. The heat that makes everything move slower. Even the whole day. Where your body enters a pace of illness but you bear not symptoms, but the weight of humidity and what feels like perpetual jet lag. Yet you haven’t flown in months. Our prior bird banding session ending prematurely because the weather was practically, in a perfect summer way, disgusting. We simply cannot band birds if the weather is putting them in any sort of heat concern. Thankfully, thunder has a way of clearing most of that out. Especially this past week. At least for a time anyway. I wish the rain could be as bountiful. The ground is unforgivingly hard, and the grass is leaning on wanting to be straw.
So when a welcome cool front blew through, the need to grab a summer camp-thin flannel was a welcome surprise just before sunrise this morning. Warm, possibly even hot coffee was back on the meter of being tolerable after cold coffee was all that could be tolerated. Overhead, in the early morning light, the pastel clouds (which have been sorely missed since May) parted as a trio of Great Blue Herons flew high together. Their wing beats matched one another, yet they seemed to follow the choreography of a scene from The Lion King, as their slow motion flight seemed Disney-esque, like they were on the way to the opening circle of life scene.
Depending on who you ask, it is either mid-summer, or late summer. The two young white-tailed deer bucks I saw on my drive into bird banding with Wild Bird Research Group, Inc., a fitting tribute to the full buck moon this week. Let’s just dub it summer for now, and know that summer means an influx of juvenile birds. Most of them are endlessly awkward. Flying is still a learning curve, and feathers are still growing out in all directions. Their “gummy mouths” where their beaks are still growing strong, the fluffy plumage here and there making them as adorable as Golden Retriever puppies, coupled with a voice of opinion. Which in some cases, renders them a little obnoxious. Oh, but they’re cute, so you’re forgiven! Soon enough, teenagers to a hilt, and yet they have that same look you see in an infant human. That look of endless curiosity and question.
Juvenile Wood Thrush
This late July morning was the romper room of bird banding sessions. So many babies, we all gave ourselves a bonus ten in our guess the Gray Catbird count. There were just.
That.
Many.
Common Yellowthroats, Northern Cardinals, Eastern Towhees, Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks, Downy Woodpeckers, Carolina Wrens, even a Brown-Headed Cowbird were all among the hatch year, new to the world birds, among others that my memory is showing its age. Each and everyone of them is delightfully cute, in their own way.
Like hot summer days, you love them for many things, but you are just as happy to see the clouds bring in cooler, more tolerable air.
*Featured Bird picture is a juvenile Eastern Towhee
This is a photo I took in my backyard. The juxtapostion of the awkward feather tuft mixed with the intelligent look. What could be better?
