Erin In The Morning

Pride, Birds, And The Beauty Of Survival

Everything beautiful survived something to get here.

Birds (Sources: Birdsandblooms, Blair Benson, Bill Duncan, Blair Benson, JM Arment, Hummingbird centarl)

It’s June 1, which means Pride Month begins again today. It’s my seventh Pride. I remember my first one, seven years ago—terrified and excited, going out dressed in the clothes I felt best in, using the name I wanted to use for the first time in public. I had people with me that day, people I found safety with, people who helped me grow into the person I am now. Seven years later, so sure of myself and so comfortable in my skin, I look back on those moments as some of the best of my life. And now, this year, as I have every year, I watch the new flock—countless in number—who are wearing rainbow colors and joining a family that will show them more love than they have ever known. They are arriving even after a political winter that was, by any measure, cold and brutal to all of us. It is watching them that has me thinking about the beauty of what we witness starting today.

This year, I took up birding. I always thought it was a silly hobby, but my wife Zooey encouraged me to point my camera at a new subject. I first did so on the Pattee Canyon trail up in Missoula—and caught, soaring in place, a single red-tailed hawk, just hovering, watching the ground below. I stared at it for a while in awe. That was all it took. And the timing was perfect, because in the weeks that followed I stumbled into the best time to be a birder: spring migration. Wave after wave of orioles, tanagers, flycatchers, and warblers of every different color and size came pouring through. I didn’t even know there were so many birds. It made me realize that for most of my life I had been walking through the world completely unaware of the beauty around me—that there was this entire world that had always been there, just waiting for me to lay eyes on it.

What I also didn’t know was the incredible journeys so many of these birds had taken just to be here—how far they had traveled to find the flocks they’d spend the season with, to build nests, to raise families, to simply exist in a place that could sustain them. The Prothonotary Warbler I spotted in the marsh? It spent the winter in the mangrove swamps of Central America, then crossed the entire Gulf of Mexico in a single flight—more than 600 miles of open water, eighteen hours in the air with nowhere to land. It had to travel that far just to find its family. And the most stunning thing about a bird like that—one that has gone through so much, that has flapped its wings until it has exhausted itself and left everything behind? It arrived here in the most brilliant gold you’ve ever seen, and began to sing. The Prothonotary Warbler isn’t nearly the only species that does this. Ruby throated hummingbirds, blackpoll warblers, bobolinks… all take incredible journeys.

I was unaware of all of this before I took up birding. It makes me wonder how much else I walk right past without seeing. I remember before I came out, I didn’t know how rich this chosen family was, how many different people were also queer like me. I had no idea that once I came out, I’d find so many of them had been here all along. They were just waiting for me, and all I had to do was stop and look and embrace something new. And I did, and an entire world opened up. I love moments like this, where life teaches you something about itself, and you realize that diversity and surprise might just be the best things it has to offer.

Today, as Pride begins, I am reminded that every single person who has made it here, put on their colors, and found their family has survived something difficult. Every one of them has just lasted through a winter where our rights were systematically stripped away. Politicians who hate us have spent the year dismantling everything we built—healthcare ripped from hospitals, identities stripped from documents. Corporations that once draped themselves in rainbows every June are nowhere to be found. Some of us have quite literally migrated to entirely new states looking for safety. And our gulf crossing this year was met with heavy headwinds.

And yet, so many of us still made it. This year, you will see your city streets filled with rainbows. This year, countless new people will celebrate their first Prides. People will put on the clothes that fit them best. People will love in ways they didn’t know how to before. People will dance and sing, and others will have no choice but to acknowledge our existence, because when we arrive, we do not do so quietly. Every single person you see in the streets this month is a testament to our resilience, and a reminder to the fact that this is a journey we have been making since the beginning of human existence. We call it something different now. We carve out a specific month for it. But we have always been here, and we have always had to search for ways to express ourselves, be ourselves, and find our kin.

Maybe birding is a silly hobby. Maybe dragging myself out of bed before dawn—and I am not a morning person, I might add—is more trouble than it’s worth. Birders look ridiculous. We stuff our pants into our socks so the ticks don’t climb up our legs. We carry binoculars and absurdly large cameras into places where everyone else is just taking a walk. But I think there is something more to it than that, something that opened my eyes to the way the world moves around me—something I wasn’t expecting to find when I first pointed a camera at a hawk and couldn’t look away. I think I understand something about this month that I didn’t understand before because of it. Pride isn’t just a celebration, it’s a testament to survival and a refusal to be quiet even after the journey. It’s putting on your most brilliant colors after the longest winter of your life. And I’m so glad we made it one more year.

Happy Pride.

A Beautiful, Calm Morning-

Think I’ll go outside for a while, and just smile! And pick up the branches, put the bird feeders back out, etc., etc. I am so very thankful our storms were not nearly so bad as was forecast as possible-to-likely! I hope all of us are able to find beauty today!

Lewis’s Woodpecker

American Bird Conservancy has changed its page. It seems even easier to use. Here are some bits about this week’s bird.

About

Most woodpecker species in the United States and Canada display a mix of black, white, and red plumage, but don’t tell the Lewis’s Woodpecker. Its unusual mix of colors includes a red face, pink belly, glossy green back, crown, and nape, and silver-gray collar. The bird is simply stunning.

Lewis’s Woodpecker also differs from other members of its family in many of its foraging styles and food choices. In the summer, the bird eats mostly insects, catching them in flight by swooping out from a perch like a flycatcher or by foraging in flight like a swallow. Wide, rounded wings give the bird a buoyant, straight-line flight, more like a jay or crow than a woodpecker. The bird seldom excavates for wood-boring insects; unlike other woodpeckers, this species lacks the strong head and neck muscles needed to drill into hard wood.

In the fall, Lewis’s Woodpeckers switch to eating nuts and fruit, chopping up acorns and other nuts and caching them in bark crevices for later consumption. During the winter, they aggressively guard these storage areas against intruders, including other woodpecker species.

Ornithologist Alexander Wilson described the species in 1811 and named it for Meriwether Lewis, who observed the bird in 1805 during the Lewis and Clark expedition.

Threats

Birds around the world are declining, and many of them, like Lewis’s Woodpecker, are facing urgent, acute threats. Moreover, all birds, from the rarest species to familiar backyard birds, are made more vulnerable by the cumulative impacts of threats like habitat loss and invasive species.

Habitat Loss

Surveys indicate that Lewis’s Woodpecker populations may have declined by about 60 percent since the 1960s, and much of the reduction is likely due to loss or alteration of suitable nesting habitat. Like all other woodpeckers, the Lewis’s Woodpecker requires cavities in snags (standing, dead, or partly dead trees) for nesting. Logging, the suppression of wildfires, and grazing have altered many of the western forests where the species is found. The changes to the landscape often result in large areas dominated by trees that are the same age, leaving few dead or decaying trees available for the birds’ nests.

Habitat Loss

Pesticides & Toxins

Pesticides take a heavy toll on birds in a variety of ways. Birds can be harmed by direct poisoning from pesticides, lose insect prey to pesticides sprayed on crops and lawns, or be slowly poisoned by ingesting small mammal prey that have themselves ingested rodenticides. Lewis’s Woodpeckers are likely exposed to pesticides in orchards and other agricultural settings.

Pesticides & Toxins

https://abcbirds.org/birds/lewiss-woodpecker/