By Rick Reyer for Wausau Pilot & Review
In Wisconsin, we are blessed to be in the migratory flyway and home for thousands of bird species; songbirds, waterfowl, raptors and more. I’ve always admired the tenacity of bird watchers, professional and amateur, for their meticulous quest in locating birds of all kinds and places.
The other day I asked my mom what she found so rewarding about spending so many hours with my stepfather observing birds in their backyard feeders. The birds, she said, reminded her in some ways of humans.
“Especially during the mating season when the males puff themselves up for the ladies,” she recalled. “They’re fun to watch.”
Even as I write this, the elusive oriole has paid a visit to our feeders. That hasn’t happened in a few years.
Now, my wife and I enjoy watching our own feeders and nearby trees for bird action. Last night, the male goldfinches were out strutting their stuff as they sought their potential mates. The male flits from the tree to the feeder and puffs while the females line up. It isn’t long before another male goldfinch flits in, chasing the first bird out. This continues for a bit, amid cackles and squeaks from the females, almost like a bachelorette party for our feathered friends. Eventually, after a week or so, all are paired and nested.
A couple of weeks ago I was watching a rabbit in the yard while my wife witnessed an American kestrel dive in for lunch. I don’t recall seeing kestrels in the yard before, in all my years of watching. They are magnificent members of the falcon family, uniquely equipped to quickly dispatch their prey.
Whether quietly observing birds in a feeder or feeling awed by the swiftness of a kestrel as she hunts, the sense of wonder in our interaction with nature is always constant. Over the years I’ve been fortunate to watch a nearby young doe play with a grouse, paddle alongside a loon from a canoe and watch an eagle grab a northern pike from the lake with my father-in-law. For me, these are all great memories and connecting points.
Seeing the kestrel reminded me of the day I had an encounter with an adult bald eagle. That story starts with a radio program.
A few years back, I was working at Wisconsin Public Radio when our team was fortunate enough to have Marge Gibson on the air for an interview. Marge is the founder of Raptor Education Group, Inc., or REGI, a non-profit “dedicated to the care and rehabilitation of injured or orphaned native bird species and public education of wildlife issues” based in Antigo. After the show she invited me out to tour the facility. I gladly took her up on it.
Unbeknown to me, the night before my visit Marge recovered an eagle that she believed was suffering from lead poisoning. When I arrived, she asked if I’d like to see him. Of course, the answer was an enthusiastic yes!
Now, many of us have seen these amazing creatures soaring through the skies, marveling at their size, stature and majesty. But seeing one up close takes that experience to a whole new level.
Marge pulled him from a cardboard box, explaining that REGI places injured raptors in dark boxes as a calming mechanism. But the eagle remained agitated through the night, prompting serious concern about its safety. Slowly, Marge brought the eagle up from the box and placed it on her arm before asking me to place my hand on its chest. Sensing my apprehension, she assured me that it would be all right, that eagles respond to gentle touch. And as I reached out and touched the feathers on its great chest, the great bird’s agitation melted away. We locked eyes for what seemed like a lifetime.
We both began to well up with tears. Marge explained that the eagle had made a connection with me, something that rarely happens between his species and human beings. It was one of the most incredible experiences I’ve ever had.
The eagle remained calm and eventually, in the weeks ahead, recovered from lead poisoning before being released back into the wild.
Most people will never have an experience like the one I had at REGI. Yet, we can all take away the smallest of connections we encounter with the natural world, which – in my opinion – is far better than anything you could experience virtually.
In this way, my mother was right. Birds are, in some ways, much like we are, responding to a simple touch, making connections that stay with us for a lifetime.
Bald eagles are symbolic in our culture, representing freedom, courage and strength. They are exciting to see, and even more wonderful to touch. But even the littlest birds in our backyards can bring us closer to nature, and leave us with a sense of wonder as we navigate the complexities of our lives.
Rick Reyer is a lifelong hunting and fishing enthusiast. He is a retired broadcaster who lives in Wausau.
