There's Change in the Air

“There’s Change in the Air”

To most people the beautiful colors of the autumn foliage are best viewed from a forest path or the shores of a mountain lake. But they’re wrong, flat wrong. The best view of autumn leaves is from the top of a tree or the edge of someone’s chimney. Of course you have to be a bird to pull that off because branches are small and roofs are steep. But Chip was a bird so it was no problem. He knew you couldn’t see true autumnal beauty until you could look straight down through all the leaves and all the branches to discover what nature had created. And while people saw the fall season as a time to slow down and enjoy the quiet and peace that it brought, the season was something else to Chip. For him it meant it was time again for the long, hard migration south to warmer places.

He was sitting on top of the maple tree in the Peterson’s backyard, the biggest and most beautiful tree in the whole neighborhood. Every year in the fall people would walk or drive by and slow down to look at it. Every branch was filled with all of the rich colors of nature. He sat there enjoying the warm, late October sun, when his neighbor from the cherry tree swooped in and perched beside him. Peck was a House Sparrow while Chip was a Goldfinch but they got along just fine.

Chip waited for the branch to stop wiggling and then said, “Hey, Peck, haven’t seen you for a while.”

“Yeah, I’ve been stayin’ mostly down on Midland Street. The Mitchells got a new feeder and so far the pigeons haven’t discovered it. Once they find it they’ll eat everything in sight.”

“I know what you mean. I wish those guys would just go back to the city.”

 Peck glanced around nervously and asked, “What are you doin’ way up here? I saw a Goshawk the other day and they can see dinner from a mile away, especially you with those bright yellow feathers.”

Chip sighed, “Oh, I just wanted to take some time to enjoy the view down through the tree. These colors are all gonna’ be flat on the ground by next week.”

“Yep, you gotta’ enjoy it while you can.”

They sat on that wiggling branch for a few minutes, not talking, just taking in the view of the trees and sky. Finally Chip said, “You know, old friend, autumn used to be my favorite time of the year but not anymore. Autumn means it’s time for the big migration and I’m not lookin’ forward to it.”

Peck looked at him curiously. “Really, why not?”

“Because I’m gettin’ too dang old for this stuff. I’m nine years old and all that flappin’ is gettin’ hard on my wings.”

Peck was very surprised. “I thought you always enjoyed your winters down south.”

Chip nodded. “Don’t get me wrong, Costa Rica is beautiful in the winter. They’ve got some seeds and bugs down there that you just want to eat all day long, but I told my wife that this year we should think about stoppin’ in Florida and avoid all that flyin’ over the Gulf. And this year will be the first trip for the kids so we’ll have to take things kinda slow.”

Peck agreed. “I know what you mean. We get sick of all those days in the air too. We were even thinkin’ that stoppin’ in Georgia or the Carolinas might be worth a try.”

Chip bent his head down and scratched his shoulder with his beak then asked, “Have you noticed that the fall’s not as cold as it used to be?”

“Yeah, the cold weather used to set in around Halloweeen but a Cardinal told me the last few years have been pretty nice on Thanksgiving. And I was sittin’ on the gutter by the Mitchell’s backyard and they were talkin’ about how the whole climate was gettin’ warmer too, only they sounded worried.””

Chip said, “We were thinkin’ how we’d love to stay around here for another month or so. We built an extra big nest last spring and it’s where Flit and Peep were born so it’s more like a warm, cozy home than a nest.”

Just then a large shadow passed over them and they looked up in fright. “Oh wow, it’s that Goshawk!” Peck shouted. They knew just what to do and hopped and fluttered down into the middle of the tree. They knew the Goshawk was too big to fit between the branches down there. They didn’t move or make a sound for a long time because they knew that a Goshawk was a patient predator. When they were sure he was gone they stayed on their safe perch and started to talk again.

Chip began. “So anyway, gettin’ back to our conversation, it seems like with the climate gettin’ warmer maybe this whole fall migration thing will just go away and we birds will just stay put.”

Peck answered, “Yeah, maybe, who knows? I was talkin’ to a Robin the other day. You know how they like to brag about how they’re the first ones to get back here in the spring. Well, he said that since the climate is gettin’ warmer now they’re also the last ones to leave in the fall. And I don’t know if he was serious but he said he and a few of his buddies are goin’ to hang around to see if it’s a white Christmas.”

Chip shook his head. “Man, Robins really think they’re special, don’t they?”

They took a few moments to drop down to the ground and scratch around for something to eat but couldn’t find anything but a ladybug and a small spider. “Hey, check it out,” Peck said. “Old man Peterson is filling the feeders. He sure likes to keep us happy, doesn’t he?” They waited for the man to finish and go back into his house then they swooped in on the large sunflower seed feeder near the garage. It took them a while to fill their empty stomachs and then they flew back up to the top of the maple tree.

Chip just couldn’t stop thinking about the changes in the weather. He turned to Peck and said, “So all this talk about the climate getting’ warmer has got me thinkin’. If it’s warmer here it’s got to be even warmer there, I mean wherever we end up going. So what if we fly all that way and it’s too dang hot to enjoy?”

Peck answered, “Well, I guess that all depends on where you go. It can’t be getting’ hotter everywhere, can it?”

“I don’t know, but last year in Costa Rica we saw a big difference in the beaches. This bunch of Sandpipers told me that half the sand was underwater and finding clams and tadpoles to eat was really hard. I didn’t get too excited about that because I don’t eat that awful stuff.”

“I never met a Sandpiper so I don’t know if they’re honest or if they just complain a lot.”

Chip looked over at Peck and said, “Man, if you could have seen how small the beaches have gotten you would have believed them.”

“Yeah, maybe, because when I was on that gutter eavesdroppin’ on Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell I heard them say the icebergs were all meltin’ and the ocean was gettin’ deeper. Mrs. Mitchell said the beach house they rent every year washed away last month and she was practically cryin’ about it.”

They were silent again as they sat there thinking of all the things they’d learned about the climate. It was a confusing and worrying situation. All of those years that they’d left home to fly to places to stay warm and now their home wasn’t getting cold anymore. Should they fly south like they always had or stay and see if they could make it through the winter? Birds have some hard choices to make.

A week had gone by when Chip ran into Peck again, sitting in his favorite spot on the chimney of the Mitchell’s house. Chip flew over and landed beside him. “How’s it goin’, Peck?”

“Oh, not bad I guess. I’m just watchin’ those pigeons down there and wonderin’ if there will be any bird food left for the rest of us.”

Chip nodded. “Yeah, they really tick me off. I guess the people in the city didn’t have any feeders. We’re lucky the people around here like to keep us fed.”

As they waited for the pigeons to finish eating, if they ever would really finish, the two old friends continued their conversation from the previous week. Chip started, “You know, last night was kind of strange. My family and I sat up in a tree watchin’ all of the trick or treaters and it was so warm some of the kids were wearin’ shorts.”

“Yeah, I saw that too. Has that ever happened before?”

“I don’t know, we’ve always headed South before Halloween because that was when the nights started gettin’ so chilly. This warm weather really has us wonderin’ when to leave. And truth be told, part of me doesn’t want to leave at all. I kinda want to just stay here and see what happens.”

Peck agreed. “You know, all of our talkin’ about the climate has got me thinkin’ the same thing.” He turned toward Chip and said quietly, “You know, you’re my oldest and dearest friend, and if you decide to stay then I will too. And I think I know a few other guys who I could talk into stayin’ home with us.”

Chip was smiling, or doing what a bird does when it tries to smile. “I think a few of the guys who hang out down on Mason Road would be up for an adventure, and heck, maybe even that big flock of pigeons would stop eatin’ long enough to join us.”

Peck was getting excited about their plan. “Tell you what, I’ll work on gettin’ the Mourning Doves, Robins, Cardinals and the miscellaneous Wrens and Sparrows. You go after your fellow Finches and the Warblers, Mockingbirds, Blue Jays and Woodpeckers, oh, and the Thrashers too.”

“Okay, but what about the Crows and Grackles?”

Peck thought for a moment then answered, “I guess they’re worth a try but they’re so dang hard to get along with don’t be surprised if they say no. He paused then added, “But they’d be good at keeping the Goshawk away.”

The feathers on Chip’s forehead were curled up and Peck could tell something was bothering him. “Is there something wrong?” he asked.

“Well,” Chip answered, “I like our plan so far, except for one thing. If we’re gonna’ try to talk all of the birds into stayin’ home for the winter we’ll need a good sales pitch. Why should they stay home? What’s in it for them?”

It was a good question but they hadn’t yet come up with a good answer. They sat on that chimney thinking for a while and Chip finally said, “Look, man, we can’t be the only birds around here who have noticed the climate gettin’ warm. And not just the birds. If the Mitchells are talkin’ about it you gotta believe so are the Petersons, and all the other humans too. After all, they’re the ones who caused it in the first place.”

Peck rubbed his left wing over his beak. “That still isn’t a sales pitch.”

“Well, I think what we need to do is tap into the birds’ anger. They must feel the same way we do. So we ask them if they really want to leave their homes again, if they really want to fly hundreds or thousands of miles to places that already belong to other birds.”

“So they’ll be angry, like bird activists?”

“Yep, and we’ll organize them all into one big protest to show the people that the birds are angry about what humans have done to the climate.

Peck did his best to duplicate Chip’s bird smile. “I like it. I think it just might work. All we need now is a place to get everyone together.”

Chip nodded. “I’ve got the perfect place.”

On a sunny Saturday afternoon things started to happen. Slowly at first and then they really picked up. A few Doves gathered on the bare branches of the big tree in the Peterson’s yard. A few minutes later they were joined by some Warblers, Finches and Wrens. Little by little the tree filled up with every kind of bird the neighborhood had ever seen. When the Pigeons were finished eating they swarmed in and took their places and even the Crows showed up even though they kept their distance from the rest of the crowd. Chip and his family perched on the highest branch with Peck and his girlfriend.

A large crowd of people gathered on the sidewalk below. Some took photographs and some just gawked but they all were amazed at the sight of the big tree that was once again full of beautiful colors. The birds stayed on those branches all afternoon and chirped and fluttered for the crowd below. They sat up proudly when a TV van pulled up with their video crew. The birds were angry about the warming of the climate and now everyone in town knew it.

At the very top of the tree was a branch full of bird smiles. Chip turned to Peck and said, “I think we got their attention.”