Red-tailed Hawk photo by Adriana Garcia
What’s my spark bird? It’s difficult to say, it seems I’ve always loved birds. I’m a Chicago kid born and bred, my earliest memories of bird joy consist of frolicking little house sparrows in a city park puddle on a hot, sticky day —flocks of head bobbing pigeons congregating on busy street corners hoping for a few crumbs of bread —wrangling robins fighting over juicy earth worms after a sudden morning rain shower —and the occasional flash of red feathers and bright orange bill of a cardinal on a crisp, cool afternoon. I first learned of birds on Sesame Street, I guess you can say Big Bird was my first bird love. Soft spoken, kind and caring, I have been following that bird ever since, including to my first Christmas Bird Count.
I am often surprised to learn of a long-standing tradition such as the annual Christmas Bird Count. Why wasn’t I made aware of such a community science endeavor sooner? Representation matters and illustrates the need for early childhood education as in Jim Henson’s decision to include a bird puppet in Sesame Street’s cast of characters demonstrates. Making up for lost time soon after learning of this project, I decided to participate in the 121st iteration despite the current pandemic. I joined Antonio Flores of the Chicago Audubon Society as part of the Sand Ridge count circle on January 2nd, 2021 compiled by John Elliott, also of the Chicago Audubon Society.
We met at Whistler Woods Forest Preserve. The morning was cold and overcast, but not as cold as is typical of January in Chicago. The woods were quiet and still, we ventured further towards the end of the trail to check out the Calumet River. We were deep in conversation when I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and called out abruptly, “Are those swans!?!” Between the trees and foliage, we saw four mute swans gliding east along the river. Not being familiar with the area I quickly followed them hoping to get a closer look as they crossed under the bridge. We came across a colorful mural on one side of the Major Taylor Trail bike path that runs parallel to the train tracks and were stopped dead in our tracks, pun intended, by a tall chain link fence. From across the fence, the industrial landscape was an unusual backdrop for the mixed flock party we seemed to have crashed. House finches and goldfinches, tree sparrows and juncos flew back and forth from the trees to the brush and behind debris, bathing in the pools of water that had collected on the gravel and dirt ground. We were on the wrong side of the tracks and the barrier kept us from moving closer.
Next stop was Calumet Woods, a surprisingly wild and seemingly untouched forest preserve. I say seemingly, since wandering through the forest later, we came across an old and rusted pickup truck in the middle of the trees among the various deer tracks. What is the story behind this abandoned truck, I wondered? Antonio spotted an old skull, I picked up the deer skull and examined kis herbivore teeth. To think this creature most likely was born, lived and died here in these woods south of the city. We heard a rasping, scraping scream— “redtail” I said, pointing a finger to the sky. The hawk appeared a moment later overhead. I saw the hawk again, as ki dived down for a kill while I moved along the river following the tracks of coyote; coyote I knew I wasn’t going to see in the middle of day. I heard the distinct territorial rattle of a belted kingfisher as the bird flew in my direction, passed me by and headed towards where Antonio was birding behind me. Apparently, we were on kis turf! The final stop was Kickapoo Woods where we saw the usual suspects, the most vocal of all being the white breasted nuthatch—ki’s my favorite greeter. We also spotted one lone song sparrow hanging out in a tree among the plentiful tree sparrows, juncos and goldfinches.
It was a beautifully rewarding day, but the time came to tally and head home. How I adore river habitat, I’ve found birding along a river never disappoints. I’m constantly amazed by the diversity and plentitude of nature along a river. I am happy I visited the Calumet River and kis inhabitants during my first Christmas Bird Count and hope to see this habitat thrive and restored to what ki deserves. Restored to what the wild creatures that call ki home deserve. Until then, I will continue to follow that bird; all the while wondering where this love of birds will take me.
Adriana Garcia
A natural born birder
who believes in the power of storytelling.
You can further explore ki/kin pronouns by listening to and/or reading a transcript of this On Being with Krista Tippet podcast: Robin Wall Kimmerer - The Intelligence of Plants.