One evening on the island, a black-and-orange bird darted out over the water, did a twisting somersault, and flew back into the woods. It proved to be an American redstart catching a mayfly — and it was my introduction to warblers and, eventually, to their difficult but fascinating life.
Warblers are a group of little songbirds that are decked out in nearly every color imaginable. Some are veritable flying rainbows.
They are both meticulous and whimsical, and this shows in the design of their nests. The female redstart, for instance, meticulously lines her nest with plant down and weatherproofs the outside with bits of birch bark that are bound in place with spider silk. Then, in a bit of whimsy, she often adds a bright feather from a scarlet tanager or an indigo bunting.
Interestingly, Koochiching County has a good population of warblers, and yet we see few around our homes. Recently I tried to find out why, and here is what I learned:
Each kind of warbler nests in a specific part of our boreal forest. For example, the golden-winged warbler nests near wetlands, while the chestnut-sided warbler prefers stands of young aspen. So the chances of us having warblers in our yards seemed slim. But then I saw the backyard of Al and Myrna Meadows.
Rising out of their lawn is a huge rock and nestled in its concave top is a delightful pond. Fed by rain and Al’s garden hose and shaded by overhanging evergreens, the 4 x 8 foot pond remains fresh all summer. And every fall it becomes a gathering place for warblers. Nearly all 25 kinds of warblers listed for our county have used the pond and been photographed by Al. One remarkable photo shows five kinds splashing and bathing at once.
The warblers begin arriving after they are through nesting in early August, and soon large numbers are singing and gossiping around the pond and in the surrounding trees. Then one day near the end of the month, a cold front will pass through, the wind will switch out of the north, and that night the warblers will rise in unison to begin their treacherous migration.
They will fly at night to escape the hawks and falcons, only to have many die from hitting skyscrapers and wind turbines. The survivors will have to fly over vast stretches of water and snow-capped mountains and buck violent headwinds to reach destinations as far away as Peru. And how these birds weighing only a third of an ounce survive this gauntlet is nearly beyond comprehension. But some will survive and return in spring — first to the pond and then out to their nesting grounds.
Thanks to Al and his long-lens camera, the warblers have been captured in stunning close-ups, so close that they seem perched on your finger. The photos will soon be available to the public.
Meanwhile, the dauntless little warblers have become an inspiration. Compared to what they endure, my headwinds seem relatively mild and my worries mostly trivial.
