Joann Merritt's Essays

Up With the Birds
November, 1994

Don and I were at I-20 Pond early enough that we could have heard the crack of dawn if it hadn’t been for the persistent babbling of the Red-winged Blackbirds. Like cicadas, when one started calling they all joined in, but unlike the monotonous droning of cicadas the Redwing’s happy sounding chatter was quite enjoyable.

We could have produced an exercise video “Up with the Birds” if we had brought the proper equipment. With background music by a group called “The Redwings”, filming started as Killdeers sounded the wake-up alarm. This commotion caused the Great Blue Heron to gronk grumpily at having his sleep disturbed, but not the Greater Yellowlegs! He was ready for calisthenics and rapidly counted off 1-2-3. Soon the gargling Marsh Wrens were using the reeds for exercise bars.

American Coots rhythmically pumped their heads back and forth, occasionally dipping their heads underwater with their bodies and tails tipped up. Ogden Nash says it best “When they dines or sups, they bottoms ups.” Pied-billed Grebes sank out of sight in the murky water where it was assumed they were doing water aerobics. However, upon surfacing, the grebes began chuckling up their feathered sleeves as if they had fooled us so I have my doubts.

The Canvasbacks didn’t want to soil their fashionable red, white and black outfits so they calmly exercised their minds through Zen meditations. The Northern Shovelers couldn’t keep their heads up to face the day so they rested their bills on the surface of the water while slowly swimming.

The Kingfisher jump-started his flights, glides and staccato rattle by splashing cold water in his face while attempting to spear his breakfast. He felt much better after successfully getting a couple (of fish) under his Belt. A Common Snipe wanted to participate but called “yipe”! and returned to his mud flat. We heard only a few “eeks” from the Long-billed Dowitchers, perhaps it was too early for them or for the Common Snipe to start mud wrestling with the worms. For whatever reason, it was obvious that everybody was moving to his own wing beat.

After he had gotten the kinks out of his neck with a few head bangs, the Great Egret performed an avian version of Jumping Jacks. He leaped into the air and by s-t-r-e-t-c-h-i-n-g those scapulars he raised his wings over his head. This was quite a feat considering the length of his straightened neck. The Great Egret was a pro. Dancing on his toes he tripped the twilight fantastic, finishing with a graceful flourish of his wings.

The birds were now ready to leave their roost and commute in shifts to their daily feeding grounds. The lazy Great-tailed Grackles who had merely been spectators to all this action, flew westward from their electric pole and line bleachers. Perhaps my biased opinion of grackles caused me to misjudge them, it’s possible that they could have been air traffic controllers. Brown-headed Cowbirds moo-ved out along the Eastern Sky Trail and Red-winged Blackbirds resembled swarms of bees flying east. Our video would have had a perfect ending as these waves of birds along with their good morning calls disappeared into the sunrise.

The sun’s warming rays crept across the pond causing random patches of mist to rise. The Osprey took flight, circling over his favorite fishing hole in the southeast corner, a lone Wood Duck floated toward the cattails and a Northern Harrier flew his second “Get outta there” sortie of the day. This caused a flurry of late departures, including Don and me.