Column: Instead of politics and doom, let’s talk about birds and chipmunks
For just a moment, forget Donald Trump. And Liz Cheney. And today’s top trending Twitter villain, whoever that may be. Take a break from all the so-called news that lures us toward the belief that we as a species are doomed.
For just a couple of minutes, let’s talk instead about what millions of us are really thinking about, which is to say spring. Spring, with all its rustling new life, its birds and tulips and ducklings and chipmunks and trees.
Let’s start with chipmunks.
Chipmunks have been weighing on the mind of Chuck Derer, a Tribune reader who emailed me the other day with the foreboding subject line: No more chipmunks.
“Where have all the chipmunks gone?” he wrote. “Our home in Downers Grove has always been home for many, many chipmunks. When spring arrived for some reason the chipmunks didn’t. Our neighbors have lost their chipmunks too. Something is going on. With chipmunks no longer available as a food source, we will lose our local foxes too.”
I promised to see what I could find out.
In the meantime, let’s move on to birds.
You may have seen Tribune reporter Morgan Greene’s recent report on the astonishing arrival of a broad-billed hummingbird at LaBagh Woods on Chicago’s Northwest Side. The rare sighting of this teal-plumed bird, which ordinarily summers in Mexico and adjacent territory, has drawn flocks of admirers, one who was so enthralled by the rare spectacle that he described his “heart palpitations.”
Heart palpitations? A cynic might call that hyperbole. The dedicated spring-watchers among us know it’s not. Spring is a physically and emotionally thrilling event, and the more closely you watch, the more exciting it gets.
“My husband has a camera sitting by the front windows so he can grab it each time he sees cool birds,” reports a friend. When she asked him why he gets so excited, he couldn’t find the words at first, but finally said, “It’s like getting a little free gift, a little present, when you see a bird for the first time.”
I felt that way the first time I spotted the white squirrel that appeared recently on my street. I’ve felt it every time since. It scrambles up and down the newly green trees, scurries through the neighbors’ tulip beds. I chase it around with my phone, with my heart pounding, trying to get a photo. Each glimpse is a fleeting gift, a peek at the mysteries of the natural world — and an escape from the human madness.
________
Columns are opinion content that reflect the views of the writers.
________
My Facebook feed is full lately of other people’s glimpses of spring wonders: of birds, flowers, blooming trees. Even the emails I receive from news-junkie friends contain as much talk about the natural world as they do about the news.
One such friend recently wrote to describe the struggling, springtime cherry tree her kids love to climb — Sherry the Cherry Tree, they call it — and added she was thinking about annuals for the garden.
“My first time planting tulips and daffodils last fall produced a small but delightful spring,” she reported. “Now, to fill in the seasonal gaps.”
I get the same delight watching the drama of the trees outside my windows. Why do some come into leaf early while others stay bare? How is it that a tree that’s bare when you go to bed is green next morning?
The mysteries and surprises are part of the excitement.
Sometimes it takes discipline, or simply a reminder, to look up from whatever screen enthralls you to contemplate the questions and wonders of the natural world. The effort never disappoints.
Which brings us back to chipmunks. As I was writing this, I heard back from Bruce Patterson, the MacArthur Curator of Mammals at the Field Museum of Natural History. I’d asked him about Chuck Derer’s chipmunk concerns.
His reassuring reply:
“Chipmunks give birth in late spring and young-of-the-year are not out of the nests yet. I think your concerned citizen is comparing conspicuous winter survivors (some of who have to sit in dens warming their litters) with summer abundance, which always includes a large fraction of young-of-the-year. Patience!”
Who says all the news is bad?
Twitter @MarySchmich
