Our Environment: "A Moment of Tranquility" by Scott Turner
Scott Turner, Environmental Columnist
Our Environment: "A Moment of Tranquility" by Scott Turner
I stood under a mature Sweetgum tree right outside my place of work—a building alongside the Moshassuck River in Providence.
What stopped me there was the twittering of American Goldfinches bathing in the river. The birds chattered as they splashed in the cold, running water, raising little patches of feathers here and there, as if those areas of their bodies required extra scrubbing.
GET THE LATEST BREAKING NEWS HERE -- SIGN UP FOR GOLOCAL FREE DAILY EBLASTAn American Goldfinch is all of five inches long and two-thirds of an ounce in weight, When the breeding season winds down, members of the species form flocks that visit food sources such as the spiky-brown “gumballs” that dangle on long stalks from the branches of Sweetgum trees.
Indeed, one by one the goldfinches began chirping up and out of the water and into the Sweetgum. Again, and again, a bird left the river, and I began to see that there were not just a few goldfinches there, but closer to three dozen of the birds.
Late every fall, the gumballs that festoon mature Sweetgum trees open. What follows are little songbirds, arriving to hang from the balls and extract flattened, two-toned, centimeter-long seeds. A goldfinch is quite agile. Binoculars in hand, I watched the little birds work over the balls and fly among them and the branches. Consequently, the tree canopy looked surreal, as if its twigs were rippling.
As the birds fed, some of the tiny seeds fell to the leaf-covered turf below. This created a hushed pitter-patter to the tweeting of the goldfinches and the gurgling of the river water.
By late fall, most American Goldfinches are a mix of light brown, beige or grey, with black wings and beige or pale-colored wingbars. Immature birds show some yellow on their throats, while non-breeding males display light yellow around their heads.
This was a sunny day, and the sunlight illuminated some of that lemon-yellow feathering of the finches, particularly on the breasts of young birds.
Standing stationary was a way for me to literally catch any breath. Moreover, as I stood quietly, the goldfinches flew ever closer, and other bird species began to show up.
In particular, a small flock of White-throated Sparrows ducked into a tangle of vines by the river. Whitehroats, as they’re commonly called, are a vocal species, producing several chips and other sounds this time of year.
One of the birds, a handsome adult, with bold black-and-white head stripes, white bib and yellow spot between eye and bill, popped out of the vegetation and started pecking at the turf about two feet from where I stood. The bird produced the species’ signature, loud “chink” call, which was robust enough to cause the hearing aid I wear in my right ear to produce a metallic-sounding snippet of feedback.
One Whitethroat flew up into the Sweetgum, as the rest of the flock pecked the ground under the tree. Joining them over the next few minutes were small flocks of Northern Juncos and Mourning Doves. A lone Song Sparrow arrived, as did a Northern Cardinal and a Carolina wren.
While many of us need to pound the pavement, track or treadmill to chill out, I found that standing in the sunshine (and on a day where the air temperature reached 60ºF!) was a resoundingly successful way to relax.
Under the Sweetgum, surrounded by songbirds, my stress seemed to seep into the soil. I regained a feeling of centeredness, and even though I faced an afternoon of steady work ahead, I approached it with a potent blend of energy and tranquility.
PHOTO: Ken Thomas/WIKIMEDIA COMMONS