Poetry Friday: Birdtober Day Eighteen: House Sparrow

Here are my Birdtober posts so far. At most of these posts, you can find the Birdtober prompts I'm using. There's a US version, an international version, and an all-Uganda version created by a colleague at school.

Week 1 (October 1-4): (Plush-crested Jay, American Robin, Mountain Bluebird, Giant Kingfisher)

Week 2: (October 5 - 10): (Eastern Plantain-eater, Red-winged Blackbird, Cardinals, Black-headed Heron, Gray Crowned-Crane, Speckled Mousebird)

Week 3:

Day 12: Red-billed Firefinch

Day 13: House Wren 

Day 14: White-necked Crow

Day 15: Red-headed Woodpecker

Day 16: Red-eyed Dove

Day 17: Rüppell's Starling 

Today's bird is the House Sparrow, which some have called the most widely dispersed wild bird. This is an interesting article about how House Sparrows came to live all over the world. At least part of the story is that unlike most other birds, House Sparrows can digest gluten. They live near humans and consume food humans drop or throw away. These were some of the first birds I learned to identify in Haiti, since our Snack Shop at school was overrun with them. I remember googling "brown bird with black bib" because I didn't know what they were. 

 

In the United States, House Sparrows are considered pests by many, and there have been numerous attempts to eradicate them. All have failed miserably. You can read more about that here. I understand why people don't like these birds, and I know that they squeeze out native birds by overtaking habitat and food supply. But you have to admire the way they adapt to wherever they find themselves, and look how lovely they are, with their warm chocolatey brown coloring (even eBird uses the word "cute").  In her book The Urban Bestiary: Encountering the Everyday Wild, Lyanda Lynn Haupt quotes the scientist Konrad Lorenz: "I never kill birds. To a certain extent, I am a friend of successful species. This goes so far that I even like weeds."

Photo Source: eBird.com

House Sparrow

These birds live most everywhere,

Hitched rides on ships to here and there,

Adapted to each place they found

And started eating off the ground.

Busy, noisy, finding seeds,

Growing, spreading just like weeds.

 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Matt at Radio, Rhythm and Rhyme has today's roundup.

Birdtober Day Seventeen: Rüppell's Starling

Today's bird is a grackle, and my colleague replaced it on the Ugandan calendar with a Rüppell's Starling. I knew right away why. Like the Common Grackle in the US, the Rüppell's Starling is noisy, likes hanging out in flocks, and has iridescent feathers. (I wrote about the Common Grackle here.) 

 

Photo Source: eBird.com

Photo Source: Wikipedia

While reading about this bird (which appears on my checklists 360 times), I became interested in the guy who named it after himself, Wilhelm Peter Eduard Simon Rüppell (1794-1884). Rüppell's Wikipedia page lists nineteen plants, animals, and birds named for him. There's even a fish and a butterfly. (Scroll down to the bottom of the page to see this list.) As the son of a banker, Rüppell had plenty of money to indulge his interests, and he was interested in everything. He traveled widely in Africa and the Middle East and kept detailed notebooks about what he saw. He also brought many objects back to Germany, where they are now on display in museums, including the Junges Museum Frankfurt. That museum has some discussion here about the way Rüppell casually appropriated whatever took his fancy. It's frowned upon today, but when he was doing it, nobody seemed to mind. 

 

The trend these days is away from naming creatures after humans, though in some cases the scientific names may continue to honour these explorers (the Rüppell's Starling has a scientific name that doesn't include any reference to Rüppell). You can start reading about this issue here, if you're interested. So all of these species may not continue to be named for Herr Rüppell forever.  I can't help feeling a little bit of affection for the guy. After all, he could have used his money in much worse ways. And while he did treat the world as his own personal possession, at least he shared what he discovered and enriched others with the knowledge. I can't find much about what kind of person Rüppell was (other than adventurous). The Junges Museum site gives some hints: "Rüppell had a close connection to the Senckenberg Research Society, having donated it many of the objects he had brought with him. He also became its second director, but was later involved in disputes with the research society. Rüppell was a very headstrong person, but also very generous: he gave everything he had collected in his long life to the Frankfurt museums. Toward the end of his life he expressed the opinion that 'giving away everything before the end is the best testament.'"

Rüppell's Starling

If you want your name
to live on after you
you could put it on a building
or the front of books you’ve written
or at the bottom of pictures you’ve painted.
You could endow a scholarship
or a library.
You could name a company after yourself
or a business
or a child.

Or
you could travel the world
giving birds, fish, butterflies,
bats, chameleons, and plants
your own human name.
These creatures, after all,
don’t know or care that you’ve done so.
The blue and purple
Rüppell’s Starlings in the yard,
for example,
are raucous and iridescent
whatever you call them.

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Birdtober Day Sixteen: Dove

Yesterday's bird was warlike, and today's is associated with peace. This one, extremely common here in Kampala, is easy to identify because of its distinctive six syllable call that sounds like: "I am the Red-eyed Dove." (Listen in the video below.)

Photo Source: eBird.com

Red-eyed Dove

I am the Red-eyed Dove

I am the Red-eyed Dove

I am a bird of peace

I am a bird of love

I'm up here in the tree

Or flying overhead

I am the Red-eyed Dove

Did you hear what I said? 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Birdtober Day Fifteen: Red-headed Woodpecker

Although I have seen lots of woodpeckers (I have thirteen species of them on my life list), I have only seen the Red-headed Woodpecker, the one on today's US prompt calendar, five times. Three times were in Kentucky and twice in Georgia. These just aren't the most common birds, but when you see one, it's always a treat. That red head is a beautiful sight. Most woodpeckers have red on their heads, so before you've seen one, you wonder why the name, but, well, look at it. It's obvious.

Photo Source: eBird.com

 

Black and white
With crimson hood
In snags
of decaying wood
Store grasshoppers
for future snacks
(alive, imprisoned,
stuck in cracks).
Steal eggs from birds
who take their space.
Eat airborne bugs
after a chase.
These fierce and rather
warlike guys
look down at you
with beady eyes.

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Birdtober Day Fourteen: Crow

I have six species on my life list with "Crow" in their names. (Plus some other corvids - did you know jays are related to crows?) In this post you can read a poem I wrote about the White-necked Crow in Haiti. When I started noticing these birds, I had already lived in Haiti for many years, and I absolutely couldn't believe that I'd never noticed them before, mainly because they are so very loud (listen to the sound in the video below). How did I miss them? I have no idea. Like the Golden Swallow, this species is an island endemic, and can only be found on Hispaniola, the island shared by Haiti and the Dominican Republic. The first thing you're likely to wonder about in the picture below is that it doesn't have a white neck; that's strictly part of the bird's breeding plumage. Then you might see the bright red eye.

Photo Source: eBird.com

The White-necked Crow Speaks

 

How unaware do you have to be, Human,
not to notice an enormous black bird
with staring red eyes
and a very loud, squawking call?
What do I have to do to make you look up at me?
Here I am.
Corvus leucognaphalus.
Pleased to meet you.

 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

 

Birdtober Day Thirteen: Wren

At the end of September, the American Ornithological Society (AOS) announced that there are four new Caribbean species of wrens. I learned about this from Birds Caribbean, who dubbed this moment in time "The Wrenaissance." 

Here's part of Birds Caribbean's explanation (you can read the rest, with more details about how these decisions are made, and photos, here, and you can read my ode to taxonomy in this post): 

"These taxonomic updates often come in the form of “splits,” where what was once considered a single species is divided into multiple species due to significant differences in traits such as appearance, genetics, or behavior. In contrast, “lumps” occur when distinct populations are found to be similar enough to merge into a single species. Ornithologists use a combination of genetic analysis, morphology (shape and size), plumage, and vocalizations to determine whether a bird population deserves species status. 

This process can involve differentiating Caribbean birds from their mainland counterparts or recognizing distinct island populations as unique species. . . . The bird formerly known as the House Wren (Troglodytes aedon) has undergone a major revision and is now split into seven different species — four of which are newly recognized as Caribbean endemics! Say hello to the Grenada Wren(Troglodytes grenadensis), St. Lucia Wren (Troglodytes mesoleucus), St. Vincent Wren (Troglodytes musicus), and Kalinago Wren (Troglodytes martinicensis), which is native to Dominica. The Kalinago Wren, named in honor of the island’s Indigenous Kalinago people, was also historically found on Guadeloupe and Martinique, though it has since disappeared from those islands." 

House Wren (St. Vincent) - Photo Source: eBird.com

 

Wrens

Sometimes one day
you’re someone new
though inside
you’re the same old you:
others see you differently,
and they decide who you will be.

You do you, small brownish wren
(who you are now, who you were then):
keep catching bugs, and sing your song.
House Wren,
you’re right where you belong. 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Birdtober Day Twelve: Red-billed Firefinch

Today is October Big Day, and when I was out birding and trying to reach my goal of 40 species (I did, by the way), I was especially looking for Red-billed Firefinches because today's bird is supposed to be a finch. I didn't see one, though I have many times before. But I wrote about them anyway.

Photo Source: eBird.com

Glowing red like an ember
From last night’s campfire,
Little bird starts the day
Cooling off in a puddle.

 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Poetry Friday: Birdtober Day Eleven: Golden Swallow

Here are my Birdtober posts so far:

Last Poetry Friday was Day Four, and contains links to Days One to Three (Plush-crested Jay, American Robin, Mountain Bluebird, Giant Kingfisher)

Since last Poetry Friday:

Saturday: Eastern Plantain-Eater 

Sunday: Red-winged Blackbird 

Monday: Cardinals 

Tuesday: Black-headed Heron 

Wednesday: Gray Crowned-Crane 

Thursday: Speckled Mousebird 

 

Today I'm writing about the Golden Swallow, an island endemic. These birds used to be found on Jamaica, but not any more; they can only be seen on Hispaniola now, the island shared by Haiti and the Dominican Republic. I've seen Golden Swallows - two of them - once. My husband and I were birding with an expert friend in Haiti. You can learn more about these beautiful birds here, on the Birds Caribbean site. And you can see the prompts I'm following (all three versions) at any of the Birdtober posts above.

 

 

Golden Swallow

Hispaniolan birds
Nesting in Hispaniolan Pines
In cavities drilled by Hispaniolan Woodpeckers.
This is the only place you can see
these particular flashes of green and gold,
these swooping, shining, iridescent
golden treasures.

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Jama has today's roundup.

 

Birdtober Day Ten: Speckled Mousebird

In keeping with today's mouse theme (the US prompt is Tufted Titmouse), the Ugandan prompt is the Speckled Mousebird. You can see why someone thought it resembled a mouse, with its hairy-looking head and long tail. I also read that they like roosting close together, similar to the way mice cuddle.  I have to say I find them much more appealing than mice, especially when the mice are in my house.

Fuzzy Mousebird in the tree,
You are not annoying me.
You don’t get inside my house
Like the other kind of mouse.
You just cutely fly around,
Sometimes hanging upside down.
Your hair on end and bright wide eyes
Make you look a bit surprised.
Fuzzy Mousebird in the tree,
You are not annoying me. 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Birdtober Day Nine: Gray Crowned-Crane

Today's official bird prompt is a Ruby-crowned Kinglet, but my colleague's Uganda suggestion was the Gray Crowned-Crane, and I had to pick the Uganda one today because it is Ugandan Independence Day. My husband and I used our day off to take a bike ride and go birding. I was hoping to see a Gray Crowned-Crane or five, but we didn't. Never mind! It's on the Ugandan flag, plus my son sent me the bird from the Bird-A-Day calendar. (See below for both of those GCCs.) 

Yesterday in our school Independence Day celebrations, we were asked what the bird on the flag symbolized, and someone near me was saying loudly, "Uganda moves forward!" The answer given from the stage was "longevity." Apparently both are true. The bird's raised leg shows forward movement. And Gray Crested-Cranes can live 20 years in the wild and up to 30 in captivity - which is a long time! I often see them on the compost pile on our Lakeside campus. I think it must feel warm and cozy to them. And they are gorgeous in flight.You can see them in the video below, which was made five years ago as a promo for a film called "Flight to Extinction." The word is that the population of these birds has rebounded somewhat since then.

Independent
Proud Uganda
Cranes are flying
Moving forward

 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Birdtober Day Eight: Heron

I've written a lot about herons in the past; here's a post from earlier this year with lots of heron poems. On Sunday morning by Lake Victoria I watched a Black-headed Heron hunting something, so I decided to write about him.

 

Photo Source: eBird.com

Spear-like bill ready
Looking for Sunday breakfast
He stalks frog or fish

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Birdtober Day Seven: Cardinal

I've been enjoying the multiple calendars for Birdtober this year, because it makes me think of families and of the enormous variety of birds across the world. Taking delight in the diversity of birds is one of the things I love about birding. I have three species on my Life List with the name cardinal: the Northern Cardinal (the one you see in the US), the Yellow-billed Cardinal and the Red-crested Cardinal. The Northern Cardinal isn't related to the other two, which are found in South America, but it is related to buntings and grosbeaks. My colleague put the Cardinal Quelea on today's Uganda calendar. That's one I haven't seen before, and it's not related to any of the others I mentioned. Of course what they all have in common is that they have red on them, just like the Cardinals in the Catholic Church.

From top to bottom: Northern Cardinal, Red-crested Cardinal, Yellow-billed Cardinal, Cardinal Quelea, all photos from eBird.com

Cardinal

The Pope gives a red hat
to the Cardinals of the church
but the birds get their red topper
from a higher authority;
the birds live
and move
and have their being
in the skies. 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

Birdtober Day Six: Red-winged Blackbird

Photo Source: eBird.com

Red-winged Blackbirds are common birds throughout North and Central America. My eBird records tell me I've had them on my checklists 51 times in nine states. The males are flashy and the females are nondescript. They are loud, too. Here are two poems I had saved with Red-winged Blackbirds in them:

So This is Nebraska

by Ted Kooser

The gravel road rides with a slow gallop

over the fields, the telephone lines

streaming behind, its billow of dust 

full of the sparks of redwing blackbirds.

Here's the rest. ("Sparks." That's perfect.)

Vanishing

by Brittney Corrigan

...

Red-winged blackbirds veer

beyond the veil. Orioles

and swallows, the horned lark

and the jay. Color drains from 

our common home so gradually,

we convince ourselves 

it has always been gray.

...

Here's the rest of that amazing poem.

 

Here's mine for today:

 

 

 Red-Winged Blackbird


“Is it rare to see a Red-winged Blackbird?”
Googled someone hopefully,
for the flash of red and yellow
seemed something miraculous
to one who’d never noticed it before.

Google dampened the unknown Googler’s enthusiasm,
responding that this was one of the most common birds
you were likely to see in North American wetlands.

“Is it rare to read a poem about a Red-winged Blackbird?”
I wonder, turning to Google to look for some
and finding so many that it hardly seems worthwhile
writing another, and yet
a sight doesn’t have to be rare to lift your heart with joy.
You just have to see it with all your attention,
loving it in the moment it’s there.

I, for example,
have seen and heard many Red-winged Blackbirds
and will always stop and stare,
enraptured,
at another.

 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey

 

 

 

Birdtober Day Five: Mocking

Today's Birdtober calendars call for mockingbirds - either the Northern Mockingbird, seen all over the United States and Southern Canada, or any one of the approximately seventeen other mockingbird species in the world. I have four mockingbirds on my Life List, but today I decided instead to go with my colleague's Uganda Birdtober list. She put the Eastern Plantain-Eater down for today, and I immediately knew why. Mockingbirds get their name from their ability to imitate other birds and even non-bird sounds. Eastern Plantain-Eaters don't do that. But while not a mockingbird, this species sounds like someone laughing hysterically, poking fun at the world. (You can hear the call in the YouTube video below, although the one in the video sounds very staid; usually there are groups of them and they sound a lot more mocking than this one!)

 

I guess today's poem is cheating just a bit, since I didn't write it specifically for this post. Instead, I wrote it back in March after attending a Good Friday service. The bird in the poem is definitely mocking, even though I didn't use that word.

 

 

Before the Cock Crows


In the outdoor
Good Friday service
in Kampala
someone read about
Peter denying Jesus
before the cock crowed
three times,
and at that moment
an Eastern Plantain-Eater
called.

It wasn’t a rooster
but with its
slightly menacing laughter
it worked just as well.
Did I deny Jesus too,
I wondered
and the bird kept chortling
as though it knew
all the ways
I could have.
 

©Ruth Bowen Hersey