Spring Forward

Joe Meche is vice president of the North Cascades Audubon Society and also serves the chapter as newsletter editor and Birding Programs Coordinator. He has been watching birds for over 50 years and photographing birds and landscapes for more than 30 years.

Almost a month ago, we all went to sleep one night and awakened the following morning. That seems pretty normal, so far. But when we went into the kitchen to put on the coffee water, we needed to change our clocks; if we hadn’t done so before we went to bed, that is. In early November, we’ll complete the second part of this annual ritual and retrieve that lost hour. Nothing really happened in the cosmos, like perhaps some sort of orbital speed bump. We just embarked on another seven-month attempt to fool Mother Nature.

In 1784, when he served as an American envoy in Paris, Benjamin Franklin first conceived the idea of what we now embrace as Daylight Saving Time (DST). In his satirical essay, “An Economical Project,” he elaborated on the thrift of natural versus artificial light. Today, the annual shift to DST is eagerly anticipated by many, especially those who can enjoy their recreational pursuits well into the long, summer evenings. Farmers, on the other hand, prefer to have the light in the morning. Some see it as the best cure for Seasonal Affective Disorder, also known as the “winter blues.” Controversy over DST will always be with us.

DST started a couple of weeks earlier than usual this year, adding further to the illusion that winter was behind us and spring had arrived at last. That’s a questionable assumption, however, and a matter best left to the individual observer. According to my calendar, we’re a little more than two weeks into spring at this writing and no one’s really sure if March came in like a lion or a lamb. And how did it leave? After 31 days of capricious weather, it’s just too difficult to remember. But in typical Pacific Northwest fashion, we were teased with a few sunny days and seemingly frightened back into winter by more than a couple of cold and rainy days.

Humans expend an inordinate amount of energy on weather in general and to a great extent even allow their days to be controlled by the vagaries of weather. We are probably the least adaptable of all species when it comes to dealing with the elements. We live at the top of the food chain but we’ve insulated ourselves from nature in so many ways.

Perhaps the answer lies in either learning to hibernate or participating in mass migrations to friendlier climes. An old adage that I’ve heard and passed on has to do with the dread of the affliction known as cabin fever. Many succumb to this malady, but the adage contains the perfect cure: “If you grow weary of cabin fever, get out of the cabin!”

Other members of the animal kingdom don’t have the luxuries that we do and have evolved to take the days as they come — to play the hand they’re dealt, so to speak. They make the necessary adjustments to survive and they do it outdoors! No matter the rigors of the winter, spring is seen as the reward for perseverance. In a sense, spring is Mother Nature’s light at the end of the tunnel. New leaves and blossoms are popping out all over the lowlands and the telltale sound of studded tires on pavement is a thing of the past. And in the middle of all the sights and sounds, new birds are arriving almost daily.

When the days get longer and the temperatures rise appreciably, the end of winter is most evident in the activity of the wildlife around us, not in the way we tweak our calendars and clocks to satisfy our needs and mollify the masses. The arrival of spring is most discernible with the annual turnover of the birds we see everywhere, from our backyards to local lakes and shorelines.

Many of the birds that have spent the winter months with us are changing noticeably into breeding plumage. The majority of the waterfowl that we’ve enjoyed on the really cold and wet days will leave us for the summer and head to their traditional breeding grounds to the north and east.

To really get into the rhythm of the season, seize every opportunity to observe birds wherever you might be. Even if you find yourself stuck in traffic or spending time in any parking lot around town, you can entertain yourself by watching swallows overhead. These superb aerialists perform the mostly thankless task of controlling the populations of flying insects that increase with better weather. Swallows are often the first to arrive on the scene, often in late winter. So for my money, and from Capistrano to Capilano, swallows are the true harbingers of spring.

The better-known and more familiar harbinger of the seasonal shift is the American robin. At first light, robins awaken us and begin the day with their roles as one of the most insanely territorial of birds. When robins aren’t sparring with other robins, they engage in life-or-death battles with themselves — or with their own reflections in everything from mirrors on cars to your windows and patio doors. I’ve seen these reflective surfaces covered with blood and feathers from their attacks. It’s just another spring ritual.

Easier to handle and certainly more pleasing to the ear is the impressive variety of birdsong that heralds the nesting season. Take a stroll around any wetland and you’re certain to hear a chorus of common yellowthroats, red-winged blackbirds or marsh wrens.

The cattail marshes around Scudder Pond and along the boardwalk at Tennant Lake are already resounding with the calls of Virginia rails and soras. The American bitterns can’t be far behind. A wonderful experience awaits the birder who spends time at dusk at Tennant Lake listening to several bitterns calling at the same time. They can be difficult to locate, but they’re easy enough to hear. And while you walk the inside part of the boardwalk at the lake, be alert for green herons.

In the raptor department, bald eagle nesting activity has been observed for some time now and an active red-tailed hawk nest is easily viewed from the west parking lot at the hospital. The local rumor mill has already produced numerous reports of merlins nesting within the city limits. The first reported nesting from just a few years back has evolved into as many as a half dozen. Speculation is that the young from the previous years’ nests are apparently staying close to home.

The lowlands are alive with the sights and sounds of spring and before long, mountain species will find their nesting grounds free of snow. Hermit and varied thrushes will fill forested areas with their songs, often to the accompanying drumbeats of ruffed grouse. American dippers and harlequin ducks will build their nests along fast-moving mountain streams. Black and Vaux’s swifts will emulate the lowland swallows as they spend their days on the wing in pursuit of flying insects. Grouse and ptarmigan will prowl the areas above tree line, often accompanying their offspring.

If you take those first giant steps and leave the cabin behind, you’ll find that the world is truly alive with spring and it’s waiting there for you to explore and discover at your own pace. Spring is the time of rejuvenation for all living things and you’ll be hard-pressed to find a sweeter time of year. §

The birds have started singing in the valley. Their February squawks and naked chirps are fully fledged now, and long lyrics fly in the air. Birdsong catches in the mountains’ rims and pools in the valley; it threads through the forests, it slides down the creek.
— Annie Dillard