House finch slept for an hour on the feeder perch - looking cold, maybe not entirely well
The Winter Birds by Charles Hughes
“But what about the birds that don’t fly south?”
A boy—age six?—arms full of books—is asking.
The library is closing. We’re in line.
“Some birds don’t mind the cold,” a woman answers.
“They have warm nests. Their feathers keep them warm.”
The boy hesitates, then rejoins, “But Grandma . . .”
He hesitates again as if he’s gathered
His grandmother can’t tell him any more.Since Christmas, it’s been bitter cold. Tonight
Will tumble icily down to zero or
Below, and there may be, there may well be,
Some birds close by that die tonight, some birds—
The youngest, oldest, hungriest—some birds
That, in this kind of cold, may well shrink deep
Into nests and feathers, just not deep enough
To keep them shivering until the morning.The boy, his books checked out, his grandmother—
They’re moving toward the door. She’s promising
Hot chocolate and Christmas cookies once they’re home.
Her voice trails off . . .
They’ve vanished now, although
Two common, everyday realities
Stay put and visible like winter birds:
The suffering and death of innocents;
Love’s presence, unavailing, undeterred.
February seems to have arrived with snow and frigid temperatures after a remarkably unwintery January. Led by the courageous chickadees and the plucky titmice, the small birds return to the feeders at first light desperate to refuel after burning everything to stay alive through the long night. Juncos, white-throated sparrows, goldfinches, red and white-breasted nuthatches, and the ubiquitous house sparrows follow in flocks. The larger birds - the cardinals, blue jays, mourning doves, and woodpeckers - seem to have more energy in reserve and arrive later, more calm and alert, less anxious about survival.
It’s all about staying warm. Songbirds have only a few tools at their disposal. First, they can insulate themselves as much as possible. So they puff up their down jackets looking fat in their fluffy warmer plumage. Second, they shiver. This generates heat but also uses lots of fuel. Third, they alter the circulation to their thin unfeathered legs to maintain them at a temperature below their core and so that the warmer outgoing arterial blood warms the returning venous blood spreading heat to the distal most parts. (Check out the Willet or won’t it blog of last August for more information than you probably wanted about this.) Fourth, most birds can slow their metabolism and drop their core body temperature at night to diminish the amount of fuel they will need until they can eat again. Finally, they spend their waking hours replenishing their energy stores by searching for, eating, and caching food all day long. And, no, they don’t need my birdfeeders to do this. They have survived harsh winters for far longer than there have been humans around with the disposable resources to feed them. Most non-migratory birds survive the coldest of winters because we know that more birds are killed by predators, especially house cats, and crashes with windows than by cold weather.
Why not migrate instead? Florida or the Caribbean look pretty tempting to me at this point in the long New England winter - but not during this pandemic year. Well, even without pandemics, migration is risky too - flying long distances in all kinds of weather to an uncertain destination. And what about that ideal territory that was so hard won last spring - why give that up and fly away? Non-migratory birds have their “reasons” for staying put, and it must be that from a species survival standpoint staying beats going.