"THEY know nothing of our wars and celebrations, our privilege and petty distractions. They fly just the same over Gaza as they do Washington, D.C., or the two Amazons."
I know I'm misreading the intention of this statement, but just to remind us. Birds are, of course, harmed by our wars, our fireworks, cars, lawn mowers, the constant drone of machines. There are scientific studies coming out all the time about the effects of noise pollution on birds and nature. Everytime I close my windows to block out noise, wildlife can't do the same.
Yep, absolutely. Nature is indeed a casualty of war and of all the other things we do in our daily lives. But a bit of license on my part. Birds fly unaware -- in a deductive, conscious way -- of what we perpetrate.
Thank you, as always, for reminding me to always be grateful for the nature we still have here, and that we are not ourselves mired in the horror of war. Thank you for helping to keep these displaced people in our hearts, and not become numb to their suffering.
I read this with a smile and a tear. Last night I sat on my front steps as the sun set and listened to the night chorus. It took a bit before the birds continued their songs. It was a relief when one by one the woods came alive. Each day brought new species but not the numbers of individuals I expected in the past.
I love birds for all the good they bring and symbolize, and that is much and great. Birds too are casualties of war, as are trees, plants, other mammals, insects, plants, amphibians, fish and other marine life.
I can easily say that humans are, by far, the most destructive and dangerous species of the estimated 8-million species on Earth. We are also the dumbest, because we fail to learn. We continue on our path of destruction. An intelligent species would not act the way humans do.
Tears at my heart thinking of returning in migration to a war zone! Recently moved from an area in Southern Alabama where migration off the Gulf of Mexico and my bird bath were met by many and my love of birds grew ten fold. Experienced my first fallout, and even bird banding at Ft. Morgan. This opened my bird love even more today. Thku for your messaging!
Beautiful, Bryan. Thank you for putting such a deep keel on the migration story.
We've built such a chasm between their lives and ours, and yet their flights - daily and yearly - can thread the world back together again, if we'll let them.
Thanks, Jason. After writing and posting, it somehow felt as if I had only scratched the surface with that keel. (Wow, not a mixed metaphor.) There's no doubt a bigger essay to come on that topic -- like what you yourself manage to pull off every week. For now, yeah, we'll look up for those migrants (or the aurora if if clears for us).
It could be a deep dive, or a book, but I admire your ability to bring us into the deep subject with such a light touch. Every time I think I'm going to do that with a piece I come for air about three pages later...
Had lovely faint auroras here last night. Side question: Do you know if there's any research on strong solar flare activity messing with migratory birds' navigation?
Well, I just did what I should have done before asking you - search online - and found that, sure enough, there is research that finds a real impact: 9%-17% fewer birds migrating on nights during severe solar flare disruption of the magnetosphere: https://eos.org/articles/solar-storms-may-scramble-signals-for-migratory-birds
Side note from my side note... When in Antarctica during a major solar flare hit (radio comms down, etc), Heather and at least a few other people in McMurdo had severe migraines. Something to think about.
This is so very beautiful. I actually read it several times before commenting here. Thank you for the reminder (and elbow to the heart) of the many joys songbirds give us.
Aw, shucks -- thanks so much, MK. You know, I have to admit: I've read it several times myself. wondering whether I did enough to make my points. It almost seems that this was an idea for an essay -- rather than the essay this topic warrants. But as you well know: revisions, revision, revision. Maybe I'll come back to this one. But I'm so grateful for your thoughts -- not the least of which are expressed so powerfully in your poetry.
I have the greatest appreciation for those like you and larger groups, Cornell, that call our attention to the creatures with whom we share this planet. I have the good fortune to live by a stormwater pond behind our home in Tallahassee that is used by migratory birds. Mostly geese and ducks. When the seasons call for their return northward,a feeling of emptiness is unmistakable. Engagement with birds serves to preserve my sense of being alive. I treasure that at age 75. Thank you, Brian.
Thanks, Gary. I know the Tallahassee area -- mostly for its insects and plants. And I suspect I know well how you feel when the birds head north; I feel it at the end of summer when the butterflies are "done" for the year. But we go on nonetheless, grateful for all of it!
I’ve relished my moments with indigo buntings and rose-breasted grosbeaks this week. The news is so chockablock full of bad news that I’m forever grateful for birds and butterflies and spring leaves. John Burroughs and Henry Beston and Ed Abbey remind us to go outside and seek solace in the wild. You do, too. Thank you.
"That wonder and curiosity on our part — I believe it’s hard-wired in us. It is the best of human nature." So true. I only hope that more and more of us lean into it - it would not only help us cope with those simultaneous miseries that you so aptly name, but over time would reduce the occurrence of those miseries, as a growing wonder and curiosity in the hearts of individuals absolutely outcompetes and displaces so many more destructive tendencies.
We have such potential in that hard-wiring, don't we. Our capacity for cruelty weighs on me. Nature is my hope, respite and refuge. Thanks for sharing all you discover as well, Sydney!
Same. I know how well nature-connections can bring out all our better tendencies - but the interest is not nearly as widespread as I would like :( Thanks, Bryan!
Beautiful photos 😊❤️ As I was walking in the yard with our dog I turned on my Merlin app to tell me what birds we were listening to. It told me that in the woods behind us there was a yellow warbler, cardinal, gray cat bird, white eyed video and a grasshopper sparrow. I hope to see them soon. 🤞☺️
I am currently sitting in the autumn migration here in New Zealand.
I love your photos Bryan and your equally stunning writing which accompanies them. Light of touch yet deep of heart. So much appreciation. Thank you. 🌼
"THEY know nothing of our wars and celebrations, our privilege and petty distractions. They fly just the same over Gaza as they do Washington, D.C., or the two Amazons."
I know I'm misreading the intention of this statement, but just to remind us. Birds are, of course, harmed by our wars, our fireworks, cars, lawn mowers, the constant drone of machines. There are scientific studies coming out all the time about the effects of noise pollution on birds and nature. Everytime I close my windows to block out noise, wildlife can't do the same.
Yep, absolutely. Nature is indeed a casualty of war and of all the other things we do in our daily lives. But a bit of license on my part. Birds fly unaware -- in a deductive, conscious way -- of what we perpetrate.
Sadly so.
Thank you, as always, for reminding me to always be grateful for the nature we still have here, and that we are not ourselves mired in the horror of war. Thank you for helping to keep these displaced people in our hearts, and not become numb to their suffering.
Thanks, Diana. Yeah, I agree -- we are indeed so fortunate.
Beautiful- thank you so much.
Perhaps it's fanciful to believe, but I think they are aware. Not in a human way but aware nonetheless. And they continue to fly regardless.
I loved reading this.
Thanks so much, Jane. I indeed like your notion of their awareness -- if only we were more aware of it ourselves. 🙏
Simultaneously sad and joyful. Thanks.
I read this with a smile and a tear. Last night I sat on my front steps as the sun set and listened to the night chorus. It took a bit before the birds continued their songs. It was a relief when one by one the woods came alive. Each day brought new species but not the numbers of individuals I expected in the past.
We have indeed witnessed such shocking declines -- hard to fathom.
I love birds for all the good they bring and symbolize, and that is much and great. Birds too are casualties of war, as are trees, plants, other mammals, insects, plants, amphibians, fish and other marine life.
I can easily say that humans are, by far, the most destructive and dangerous species of the estimated 8-million species on Earth. We are also the dumbest, because we fail to learn. We continue on our path of destruction. An intelligent species would not act the way humans do.
Yep, as you put it: dumb, dangerous, and destructive -- we're too good at that stuff.
Beautiful and thoughtful messaging, thank you so much.
Thanks so much for reading, Heidi, and for being here among the critters and conversations.
Thank you, Bryan. It’s an honor to be here, you’re such a good writer.
Tears at my heart thinking of returning in migration to a war zone! Recently moved from an area in Southern Alabama where migration off the Gulf of Mexico and my bird bath were met by many and my love of birds grew ten fold. Experienced my first fallout, and even bird banding at Ft. Morgan. This opened my bird love even more today. Thku for your messaging!
Oh, the fallouts -- so profound, so evident of what's up there and out there ... and all that we and the rest of nature have at stake. Thanks, CJ.
Beautiful, Bryan. Thank you for putting such a deep keel on the migration story.
We've built such a chasm between their lives and ours, and yet their flights - daily and yearly - can thread the world back together again, if we'll let them.
Thanks, Jason. After writing and posting, it somehow felt as if I had only scratched the surface with that keel. (Wow, not a mixed metaphor.) There's no doubt a bigger essay to come on that topic -- like what you yourself manage to pull off every week. For now, yeah, we'll look up for those migrants (or the aurora if if clears for us).
It could be a deep dive, or a book, but I admire your ability to bring us into the deep subject with such a light touch. Every time I think I'm going to do that with a piece I come for air about three pages later...
Had lovely faint auroras here last night. Side question: Do you know if there's any research on strong solar flare activity messing with migratory birds' navigation?
I know of no such research (but it's not my thing). Good question, though.
Well, I just did what I should have done before asking you - search online - and found that, sure enough, there is research that finds a real impact: 9%-17% fewer birds migrating on nights during severe solar flare disruption of the magnetosphere: https://eos.org/articles/solar-storms-may-scramble-signals-for-migratory-birds
Side note from my side note... When in Antarctica during a major solar flare hit (radio comms down, etc), Heather and at least a few other people in McMurdo had severe migraines. Something to think about.
This is so very beautiful. I actually read it several times before commenting here. Thank you for the reminder (and elbow to the heart) of the many joys songbirds give us.
Aw, shucks -- thanks so much, MK. You know, I have to admit: I've read it several times myself. wondering whether I did enough to make my points. It almost seems that this was an idea for an essay -- rather than the essay this topic warrants. But as you well know: revisions, revision, revision. Maybe I'll come back to this one. But I'm so grateful for your thoughts -- not the least of which are expressed so powerfully in your poetry.
Perhaps, the beauty of songbirds is easier to convey than the world's collective grief.
I have the greatest appreciation for those like you and larger groups, Cornell, that call our attention to the creatures with whom we share this planet. I have the good fortune to live by a stormwater pond behind our home in Tallahassee that is used by migratory birds. Mostly geese and ducks. When the seasons call for their return northward,a feeling of emptiness is unmistakable. Engagement with birds serves to preserve my sense of being alive. I treasure that at age 75. Thank you, Brian.
Thanks, Gary. I know the Tallahassee area -- mostly for its insects and plants. And I suspect I know well how you feel when the birds head north; I feel it at the end of summer when the butterflies are "done" for the year. But we go on nonetheless, grateful for all of it!
I’ve relished my moments with indigo buntings and rose-breasted grosbeaks this week. The news is so chockablock full of bad news that I’m forever grateful for birds and butterflies and spring leaves. John Burroughs and Henry Beston and Ed Abbey remind us to go outside and seek solace in the wild. You do, too. Thank you.
Oh, those buntings and grosbeaks -- I'm so glad you're enjoying them, "solace in the wild" indeed! Thanks so much, Steve.
Wonderful pictures. Needful contemplations. Thank you!
You are most welcome, John. Thanks for reading!
"That wonder and curiosity on our part — I believe it’s hard-wired in us. It is the best of human nature." So true. I only hope that more and more of us lean into it - it would not only help us cope with those simultaneous miseries that you so aptly name, but over time would reduce the occurrence of those miseries, as a growing wonder and curiosity in the hearts of individuals absolutely outcompetes and displaces so many more destructive tendencies.
We have such potential in that hard-wiring, don't we. Our capacity for cruelty weighs on me. Nature is my hope, respite and refuge. Thanks for sharing all you discover as well, Sydney!
Same. I know how well nature-connections can bring out all our better tendencies - but the interest is not nearly as widespread as I would like :( Thanks, Bryan!
Beautiful photos 😊❤️ As I was walking in the yard with our dog I turned on my Merlin app to tell me what birds we were listening to. It told me that in the woods behind us there was a yellow warbler, cardinal, gray cat bird, white eyed video and a grasshopper sparrow. I hope to see them soon. 🤞☺️
Keep us posted on what you find back there! 😀🙏
Well,I saw either a goldfinch or a yellow warbler for a split second at the feeder 🤷♀️
I am currently sitting in the autumn migration here in New Zealand.
I love your photos Bryan and your equally stunning writing which accompanies them. Light of touch yet deep of heart. So much appreciation. Thank you. 🌼
Oh, so far away — but so nice to hear the birds are coming to you as well, Jo. Thanks so much for the kind words.