The American Bald Eagle Rises Again.

It is only in the past few decades that the American Bald Eagle has recovered in numbers sufficient to
be removed from America's  Endangered Species List.



American Bald Eagle, copyright  Edward Howe, 2013

I thought I would never live to see a Bald Eagle in the wild.  However, sitting at my sister's breakfast table one morning recently on a chilly, clear day, I looked out across the Fox River and saw a pair of bald eagles perched on an oak tree branch above the fast-flowing river.

I know that there is controversy over whether banning DDT was necessary to the preservation of the American Eagle. The argument was that DDT caused the eagles to produce eggs with defective shells.  Both we and the eagle have survived this ban and I am glad that substance is not used anymore.

Benjamin Franklin did not like the Bald Eagle because he observed that it wasn't uncommon to see eagles steal prey from other birds rather than go hunting for their own dinner. Also, he had seen many times that a handful of air-born sparrows could harass and chase the big raptors away.  Lazy and non-aggressive, American Bald Eagles, Franklin thought, could not represent the industrious and courageous spirit of America.

At first, Franklin considered that the rattlesnake would be a good choice as America's symbol.  He ended as a champion of the wild turkey which he insisted was an impressive and aggressive native American bird more representative of the American spirit.  But, Franklin lost out and I'm glad.

Bald Eagles do take advantage of other raptors and flee from pestering passerines but, no American bird pierces my heart with a glance like the Bald Eagle. I think I could stare down a turkey or a house sparrow, but not an eagle intimidating me with bright eye and yellow beak.  The white feathered Bald Eagle stands for strength, the kind of strength emblematic of America.

I'm glad that these days just about any American can look up and catch a glimpse of  this majestic bird soaring against a blue sky and feel one with it, if just for a moment.

 

Northern Cardinals Clearing Their Throats.

What is so urgent to the cardinals this morning?  Here are two males flying about and chirping away and it's thirteen degrees as I sit on a bench in the early morning light watching flashes of red move through the trees.

copyright: dedayrace at www. flickr.com

I have to dig out an old bird book to look up more about cardinals.  I remember that at the turn of the twentieth century, "redbirds," then a common name for cardinals, did not winter north of St. Louis. In the last century the winter range of Cardinals has grown to include southern Wisconsin and Northern Michigan.

I once heard territorial song from a cardinal as he perched at the tip of a large bush one frigid January morning just outside of Chicago.  This morning, in early December, the cardinals aren't singing yet, but they are clearing their throats.

My theory is that, these days, there is much more stuff for cardinals to scavenge. Seeds are abundant from local gardens and what ecologists call "edge."  "Edge" is the ecological niche that borders forests.  It's where bushes, grasses and wild flowers find a healthy place to grow, produce seeds and provide "cover" for birds.  It's taken a few hundred years for us to beat back the forests and carve out space for our farms but now their is plenty of edge, enough to support winter flocks of cardinals, sparrows and other passerines.

 Forget  harsh Northern winters.  After all, common sparrows and blackbirds seem to have had no trouble managing cold and snow. The cardinals have learned that they are welcome to the winter table, too.