Banding the Birds

On a beautiful Sunday afternoon, an anxious group of humans gathered to welcome several special guests into their midst. The guests were bewildered, if not somewhat miffed about the meeting. It was involuntary, you see. Each of them were simply minding their own business when quite suddenly they were caught. Literally, caught in a net. A mist net, no less - hard to see and even harder to escape from. Brought one by one to the group gathered on the wooden deck, each no doubt wondered if this was it. The end, you know.

It is that way when humans meet the creatures of the Earth. The creatures are afraid because the humans have so many times meant harm. How to communicate to them that no harm is intended? Well, there isn't any way. In fact, it is best left that way - for the next human they see may indeed mean them harm, so flee, they must.

On this day, the humans included two ornithologists and a very excited group of bystanders who gaze at birds at a distance. This would be an up-close view. Our first little fellow was a male Carolina Wren. From far away, he is simply brown with his various markings. Ah, but when you see him at a distance of arms length, you see the reddish tinge his feathers have. Tolerant, he was, particularly with the lady blowing his feathers on his belly to see the actual size of his tiny body underneath those pretty reddish brown feathers. He allowed the humans to take his picture, stroke his head and then place an ever so tiny silver band around his leg. An annoyance for him, but for the people who want to understand his habits and make sure his habitat is suitable and safe, the band was important, should he fly into some other mist net somewhere.

Mr. Cardinal was less tolerant. After allowing a quick photo, he wriggled free and flew away. Mrs. Cardinal was truly indignant. After examination of her, part of the reason must be because she has a nest of little eggs she's sitting on. Blowing the feathers to part them on her tummy revealed a slightly swollen pink area which helps her warm the eggs as she sits. After examining her, weighing her, a few photo ops and several drops of blood she managed to evoke from the ornithologist's hand that she repeatedly bit, she was freed to fly back to her babies. What a story she will have to tell them when they hatch.

What a story the humans will have to tell, too, of their afternoon with the reluctant visitors.