Keep Calm and Bird On: February 2022

Ginger Andrews • February 1, 2022
“If you don’t look, you don’t see. You have to go and look.”
-Edith Andrews

February seesaws between winter and spring. Red-tailed Hawks are courting, Snowy Owls are still around and Red-winged Blackbirds never left. Snow Goose? As a Yard Bird? You never know who may just drop in. 


But it’s also a good time to reflect on our relationship to birds and to nature in general. The term “ethical birding” began popping up with the rise of Bird-a-thon fundraisers, many of which started out with competing teams. Playing tapes to attract birds was strictly forbidden, not only for fairness’ sake, but because they often took place at the peak of spring migration, when birds need all their energy to find home, food, a mate, and start raising the kids. But the same birding ethic of do-not-disturb non-interference also applies in winter. Snowy Owls defend a winter hunting territory; harassment from paparazzi steals precious survival energy from them too. 


Back at the dawn of the opera-glass vs. shotgun-ornithology split, when simple viewing pleasure and brute science were still eyeing one another askance, John Burroughs wrote that if we see things for ourselves, they are ours forever, but if we are merely shown them, we quickly forget. Documentation is one thing. But could obsessing on pics or apps short-circuit a deeper experience? With patient watching, we might see interesting behavior. And it’s worth bearing in mind that as we see birds, they also see us, usually much faster and in greater detail. Living beings must always be more than objects to list or hang on a wall. Do we just want to be tourists of life? If we spend more time in nature, won’t we come to know more about it? And even, perhaps, ourselves? Science too will be all the better for it.

Recent Posts

By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger • October 26, 2026
I grew up, quite literally, with hot water radiators in a Colonial Revival from the 1920s.  There was a huge boiler in the basement that chugged and blew hot belching air. It took up one whole area of the basement and I avoided it. I could hang over on the stairs and stare at its flames at the bottom. It scared me. It not only kept the basement very warm but also very dry. While the house had been built in an area that began to slope at our property, between the furnace and the clever drainage system installed by the builders of the house in the 1920s, our basement was always dry. My mother, the queen of rebates (this is the 1970s and 1980s), had her “rebate and coupon table” right in front of this furnace. I remember it always glowed – and I would not doubt that it still had some asbestos around some of its pipes. Maybe another reason I stayed away – perhaps I was warned away at an early age not just because I could burn myself! One of my fondest memories of this house was the clang and hiss of the heaters in the winter. It made me feel instantly cozy, as if I was wrapped in a nice warm quilt. If I was in bed at night and it was snowing, all the more warmth and cozy feeling. It was comforting and a sound and feel I still associate with snow and winter. The street light and the snow falling, spiraling down in that pinkish gold of the light – and the hoped for snow day to come! Forced air systems just don’t do the same thing. And, they suck all the moisture out of the house to boot! They do keep a house quite warm though – but still not the same – and I miss that humidity as do my plants. I reflect back on the hot water radiators – those old cast iron loopy radiators with the valve and perhaps a radiator box to cover them – as it if they kept me super warm. They didn’t. We kept our house at 63F – a lesson I still follow – and it was a big old Colonial-style house so it could be drafty. One reason we had a Franklin stove in our family room and quilts for nighttime television watching! So many times over the course of a winter, I think of that house where I spent about twenty years of my life, and remember the, “Bang, Clang, Hiss!” of the radiators and the coziness they projected. And while, it wasn’t always warm, it was a lot warmer that the Mitchell House would have been in February! JNLF
By Jascin N. Leonardo Finger • October 19, 2026
October 1. {1857} No place that I have yet seen in Europe has interested me like Abbotsford; no palace has held such royalty. I sat down in the chair which Sir Walter Scott had occupied, and I almost felt his presence; his power I had known nearly all my life . . . . It was rather a sad visit as all such visits must be . . . I had half a mind to sit down and cry, perhaps because the “wizard” was dead, perhaps because I was a little homesick. This date marked the anniversary of Maria Mitchell’s comet discovery on October 1, 1847. At least one of Scott’s books exists in Maria’s personal library today – and I am sure there were more – handed about among family members, as well as available at the Nantucket Atheneum. This was truly an experience and education for Maria – touring through Europe. It was also the first time she had even been away from home for any length of time. She was entering into her third month away from her family and Nantucket – it must not have been easy. Keep in mind – no easy communication – letters only, do not forget. At least a voice at the other end of a phone line can help a bit when one is homesick. (Yeah, no, I’m not a Facetime/Skype kind of girl. I do “live” in the 19 th century!) JNLF
October 1, 2026
“If you don’t look, you don’t see. You have to go and look.” -Edith Andrews
Show More