On Birds: Bonding with feathered friends

Published 6:43 pm Monday, November 24, 2008

By Frances Wood’ email=’Frances.Wood@cmg-northwest2.go-vip.net/mi-reporter

Have you ever experienced a magical moment with wild birds? Perhaps a chickadee landed on a tree branch right next to your shoulder, or perhaps an eagle flew directly over your head, so close you could hear its wings flap. This special bird interaction happened to me on a warm day a couple weeks ago. I’d left the door to the back deck wide open for some cool air. A little Bewick’s wren, which often hops around our deck looking for tidbits, happened to wander inside the open door and then couldn’t find its way out. When I walked into the room and noticed the bird flinging itself against a window, the bird seemed frantic and fearful. I spoke quietly to it, explaining that I was going to help it back outside. As I approached, the little thing calmed and allowed me to reach down and pick it up. I gently cupped it in my hands, stepped outside the open door and opened my hands, but the bird didn’t fly off.

Instead — and this surprised me — it stood upright on my open palm, alert and calm. For several moments it allowed me to examine every feather, from its warm chocolate-brown head and bright creamy eye stripe to the end of its long striped tail.

After I’d thoroughly enjoyed this close encounter with the wren, I whispered, “Thank you, little one.” Only then did it take flight and zip off to the thick plantings beside the deck. Being in the “bird business,” friends often share with me their interesting and intriguing bird observations.

Here’s one from my friend Ellen. She finds crows fascinating and often observes them from her Seattle home. One day she noticed a crow scare a squirrel under a car parked at the side of a busy street. The squirrel tried to sneak away and escape back into the shrubbery, but the crow kept herding it back under the car.

Then Ellen realized that the only escape route that the crow left open for the squirrel was into the busy street. Could it be that the crow was hoping a car would come along at just the right moment to turn the squirrel into roadkill, and into the crow’s next meal? Here’s another magical moment that occurred last August on a hot, dry day. I was standing in our garden watering some parched flowers. After I mindlessly held the hose for several minutes, a small yellow and gray warbler fluttered into the spray and began taking a shower. The yellow-rumped warbler, probably a migrating bird midway through its southbound travels, was unconcerned with my presence. It fluttered in and out of the spray, relishing the moisture. Then it landed on a nearby branch, fluffed its feathers and shook like a dog, large drops of water flinging off its back. Next, the tiny, yellow creature flew back to the hose spray, dancing through the shower again and again. I stood enthralled and wondered what could be more delightful than offering a refreshing shower to a tired, worn-out migrating warbler on a warm August day.

I’d love to hear about your magical moments with birds. Send me an e-mail and perhaps I’ll share it in a future column. Frances Wood is author of “Brushed by Feathers: A Year of Birdwatching in the West,” available at local bookstores. She can be reached at wood@whidbey.com.