In defence of the crazy old bird lady
Earlier this week, I heard an unfamiliar bird call and grabbed my iPhone to identify the bird. The Merlin Bird ID app informed me that 69,139 people around the world were standing quietly, phones in hand, listening to birds. Imagine that - so many people engaged in the same activity at that exact moment!
Birding is often identified as a compulsory hobby upon retirement. When I retired, I received several suggestions that I might want to take up birding. Some insinuated I might become a crazy old bird lady, which seems to be a more accepted version of a crazy cat lady!
Do you remember the stereotype? Jane Farwell as the bird woman on the steps of the church, in Mary Poppins. Brenda Fricker, the bird lady in Home Alone. These older women who feed birds were depicted as eccentric, lonely, and possibly unhinged. I think of my mother, who was none of those. When I was in my teens, she would open the kitchen window, whistle, and a redwing blackbird would fly over and take a Ritz cracker from her hand. He came every year, for three years in a row.
The male stereotype of a birder was quite different. Ornithology was a highly respected, exclusively male-dominated career and considered a prestigious, scientific discipline. While thousands of women contributed valuable field data and fought for bird conservation, they were deliberately excluded from professional ranks.
These days, birding is enjoyed by a wide demographic. Growing research suggests that birding supports brain health. The complex processes required to identify bird songs and spot visual patterns actually help mitigate age-related cognitive decline.
I admit I have always loved birds, and that interest has grown over the years. But I am not an avid birder. I will not drive a thousand miles for the chance of a glimpse of a rare bird blown off course. I am quite content with the birds that live in my backyard. I am a birder - let’s just scrap the derogatory adjectives!
My favourite these days are the rufous hummingbirds, who spend their summers with us. These feisty birds arrive in the spring. They finish a full feeder a day, heavily supplemented by the pollinators on our deck. Their favourites are the skyscraper oranger salvia and the purpletop verbena that towers over all the other flowers. I love to watch their heads disappear into the salvia as they flit from flower to flower.
They are inquisitive, territorial, and not at all concerned about my presence. They land on a newly filled feeder before I have even hung it up. They will hover in front of my face when the feeders are empty, asking for more. There are always a few fluffing their feathers on the fence when I turn the sprinkler on in the garden.
Right at this moment, sitting on the deck, I can see and hear a pileated woodpecker tapping on a dead tree trunk in the front yard. They are closely related to another favourite of mine, plentiful on our property, the northern flicker. What a gorgeous bird! Tree swallows are catching the breeze blowing across our property, performing acrobatic turns as they catch insects.
One of my other favourite birds, which I rarely see close up, is the cedar waxwing. My bird app picks up their song all the time, but they never venture closer than the pond. Other birds who keep their distance include goldfinches, orange-crested warblers, and chestnut-backed chickadees.
So who visits our deck and fenced yard? Juncos regularly splash in the bird bath. Robins eat the ripening berries on the pyracantha. They have also decimated my raspberry bushes this year - my fault for not netting them earlier. After all, who could resist the temptation of warm, plump, fresh berries? Spotted towhees stick close to the overgrown bushes along the fence. Male towhees spend 70 to 90 percent of their mornings singing. Almost as soon as they attract a mate, their attention shifts to other things, and they spend only about 5 percent of their time singing.
Overhead, turkey vultures swoop low over the deck. I wonder if they are checking to see whether Bella, stretched at my feet, is dead or alive! Crows chase eagles overhead. One day, we had four young eagles sitting on low branches by the pond. One of them clutched a bone, and the rest were eager to steal it! And we have ravens, smart, talkative, and loud! There is a nesting pair in the trees behind our house and they talk to each other incessantly. Sometimes a soft coo, almost a love language. Other times there conversations are more intense - a warning maybe? They tease our dog, flying low over her head, and then landing in nearby unreachable branches.
Occasionally, we will see a kestrel or falcon chasing birds. We now have black bird decals on all our windows after a peregrine falcon chased a small bird right into our kitchen window, many years ago. At night, we hear owls. Sometimes, a barred owl will swoop down at dusk and sit on our deck railing, observing us with intense curiosity.
So yes, I love my backyard birds. I have been known to digress during an online board meeting to share a bird moment. I can sit quietly for an hour watching the bird activity in my backyard. And I can confirm the research, birding calms me and brings happiness into my life. Did you know that just 30 minutes of birdwatching significantly lowers stress and anxiety?
So far from the eccentric, unhinged stereotype of the past, it seems I am part of a community of older women - not unlike my mother whistling for her redwing blackbird - who quietly enjoy and welcome the magic of the bird world.
What about you - do you have a favourite backyard visitor that brings you joy?
All bird photos are from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology.
