Personal Reflections on Spring Migration

The Best Deal I Know: Personal Reflections on Spring Migration

by Phil Hoose

One of the benchmarks in my year's orbit, as distinctive as any holiday, is the first April morning that I pedal my bike to Evergreen Cemetary in Portland, Maine to observe the new songbirds of spring.

I make my debut about mid-month, when grass between the lichen-covered gravestones is still a wheat-colored stubble. On that first day I usually hear and see Chipping sparrows, Fox sparrows and Phoebes, among others, in addition to the finches, jays and chickadees that have been singing for weeks. With luck, I might find a tail-pumping Palm warbler or two on the lawn or in the weeds.

About two weeks later the main event begins. Surrounded by city neighborhoods, Evergreen Cemetery must appear to the wing-weary passerine as a neon sign flashing: "Vacancy -- free buffet" Throughout May, as trees leaf out and insects hatch, warblers and vireos and flycatchers rain down from the sky night after night to settle down among us in a familiar sequence. Palm, Black-and White and Parula warblers and Yellowthroats are among those at the throttle of the migration train, and three or four weeks later, the caboose rumbles through with Bay-Breasted, Mourning and Blackpoll warblers among the passengers.

Every dawn's curtain lifts to present a fresh cast of new arrivals, looking and acting out of place in this little oasis. They hop around the lower branches of trees, strangely exposed, too busy scraping little worms from leaves and branches to notice the birders who gather to celebrate them. Sometimes they come in too close for binoculars. In the first days most migrants are males in breeding plumage, getting a head start north to set up breeding territories, but gradually more and more females check in.

What a journey they're on! Weeks ago and far to the south of us they began feeding to build strength and reserves of fat, and then took off in mixed flocks, following the form of the earth, navigating by the stars, a shifting, shape-changing social organism, looking like buckshot on radar. And now here they are on a spring morning, pausing briefly among the markers to Portland's leading citizens, and soon they'll be off again.

To me, migration is the brightest banner of spring, a bolder proclamation even than opening day at Fenway Park. And what's the price of a ticket? I can see the whole show simply by obeying my alarm clock, splashing water on my face, pulling on a sweater and hopping on my bike. Migration is the best deal I know.

About the Author
A graduate of the Yale School of Forestry and Environmental Sciences, Hoose has been a staff member of The Nature Conservancy since 1977. Through the American Birding Association, he co-founded the Cuba Initiative, a fund to provide materials such as binoculars and field guides and art supplies to bird educators in Cuba.

Hoose is the author of The Race to Save the Lord God Bird, a chronicle of the conservations efforts to protect the Ivory-billed Woodpecker from extinction.

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