Life's Transitions

Evening Grosbeak

Experts say that major illness, death, job loss, moving and change in marital status can change one’s life in ways no other event can. In the past year, I have brushed up against most of them and I can say that the experts are not wrong. Although the events are now history, the residual effects remain with me.

It was those life events that brought me to this place far in the northwest Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I have been living in the house of my childhood for the past eight months. For most of this time, I have been busy attending to the needs of family members. With the urgent tasks addressed, at least for the moment, I can refocus my attention elsewhere.

Since my arrival, I have been enticing the neighborhood wildlife into returning to the yard. With the feeders and bird baths neglected, the only critters to frequent the yard are a large colony of chipmunks. When I returned in early July, I refilled the bird feeder, hung suet baskets and cleaned and replenished the bird baths. Slowly the birds, squirrels and rabbits returned.

This morning I was rewarded for all my efforts. After 36 hours of thunderstorms and dreary weather, I watched as the backyard was filled with an invasion of birds not seen in the past. Blackbirds fought with blue jays for access to the suet baskets. Chickadees, American Goldfinch and sparrows glided down from the lilac bush to pick up a sunflower seed or perch gingerly on the side of the bird bath for a quick drink of water.

That was the moment when I saw three birds I had never before saw in person. The first two were unknown to me. I hunted through the bird book I found in the bookcase, followed by a Google search of yellow perching birds with black wings and white back. Success!! I found a photograph of Evening Grosbeaks. They migrate south on an irregular basis so to see them here was an unexpected surprise. For the first time in ages, I grabbed my camera and began to take pictures. When I was satisfied that my avian highlight of the day had occurred, a stranger image landed on the bird feeder. It was a blue jay completely bald. My first thought was parasite infestation, something during my research offered as a possible cause. But I also learned that both blue jays and northern cardinals are known for experiencing complete molts in late summer/early fall. The poor bird looked so pathetic, but that was my interpretation. As for the jay, he jostled for a spot at the suet basket indifferent to his appearance.

Bald Blue Jay

As I write, the red-winged blackbirds return in mass squabbling with the jays and woodpeckers for food. The chipmunks climb the bushes in another fruitless attempt to reach the feeder. I realized this morning that what I needed through all of the drama of the last year and that I neglected to do was stop and immerse myself in nature. What I am witnessing this morning is nature’s own transition from summer into autumn. Nothing in life remains the same and the life events I felt so deeply are no different than the ones experienced by the natural world around me. The birds are preparing for their southern migration to warmer climates. Some will survive and return in the spring; others will succumb to illness and die. It is all part of the nature of life; there is no escape for any of us.