For December. l')21 



mi 



December Birds 



PAUL B. RlIS 



DECKMLIER i.s the last chapter in the yearlv cycle 

 of months. We barely should care to close a book 

 without reading its final chapter, even following up 

 its sequel if there be any. So it is in Nature. We must 

 look to December to finish the season's work, to complete 

 the data of the field book. The presence of that war- 

 bling, vireo, orchard oriole and rose breasted grosbeak 

 are easily e.xplained now, their cunningly concealed nests 

 now darkly revealed against the leaden December sky. 

 .-\.nd in other places where we often met the yellow 

 warbler, the woodthrush and the woodpecker, slinkmg 

 .away at our approach ; we now hold their secrets. De- 

 cember therefore is essential to the Nature lover, as it 

 supplies the answer to many half-formed questions. 



No seasonal changes cover a wider range during an} 

 month of. the year than in December. While often v^-e 

 find November prolonged well toward the first of the new 

 year with a "green Christmas'' yet more often we experi- 

 ence sudden changes, a rebellious breaking up of the Sum- 

 mer, a premature assault by King Uoreas on lands of a 

 .scarcely stilled Indian Summer. The fields and wood- 

 lands are soft and brown, leaving little solace for him, 

 who must 'nave a high pressure performance, and yet we. 

 who delight in any of Nature's moods may draw much 

 entertainment from the grounds, barren to any but the 

 appreciative. A last canoe trip down stream will yield 

 the richest returns, for here we may let our eyes feast 

 on many things not found afield. 



The fangs of King Uoreas in his first attacks have 

 sunk deep. The edges of the river are frozen and the 

 gently lapping waters, coming in contact with its tinkling 

 surface, musically murmur their contentment. Hoar 

 frost covers the ground. The bold stalks of the Jimson 

 weed, adorned with its thorny capsules challenge the 

 Prairie dock, the iron weed and the cockle burr for 

 supremacv on his sandbar, the latter moved there within 

 this century, from regions unknown and to the north. 

 The day is yet young and the sun dog in the sky is a 

 gentle warning of the coming of rain or snow. A splash 

 ahead, where we alarmed a foraging muskral and the 

 hasty flight of a black duck from the opposite shore indi- 

 cates our silent voyage downstream and a little further 

 on, another duck, wounded by a covetous hunter is trying 

 her skill in evading this unknown enemy. Another head- 

 long flight by a frightened le;d is sufficient evidence thai 

 man is held in great distrust, and a little later, a half 

 mile detour afield to get abreast of a small flock of ducks 

 ■confirms this conviction and nothing is left to the harm- 

 less Nature lover to enjoy but an excited unknown 

 species, fast disappearing in the distance, liut over here 

 where the wild hemp is growing luxuriously, we see the 

 flitting of nian_\' wings and recognize the delightful note 

 of but recent friends, the redpolls. Now they endear 

 themselves in their fearless and happy way, appearing 

 to even better advantage than our enthusiastic pen would 

 have them. And here, all around us, everywhere tree 

 sparrows j)layfully fly from shrub to tree, calling or sing- 

 ing intermittently. .\'o, the song of wild birds is yet 

 with tis, and neither have the fangs of King Boreas been 

 able to nip the hapjiy heart of a little roving hand of 

 goldfinches. 



How beautiful these shores are! We missed the de- 

 parted wealth oi goldenrod and wild asters still wafting 

 in fleecv bracts. The blossom of wild plum, crabapple 

 and haws have also escaped us. but in their stead we 



note with wonder and admiration the light shades of the 

 thickets, growing graduallv denser, interspersed here 

 and there with the golden touch of willow, the blue and 

 !)uri)le shoots of young boxelder, the scarlet of dogwood 

 and meadow rose, punctuated in the distance by mono- 

 lithic shafts of grey and white, the sycamores. The 

 brown foliage of the oak, the green leaves and stems of 

 the cat brier, still surviving, the seed pod of boxelder, 

 the scarlet fruit of meadow rose and haw, the bronzed 

 and green foliage of great cedars, the hazy distance, the 

 shadings of the horizon require not the artist's imagina- 

 tion to produce a picture worthy of a master. .-\nd here 

 is another flash of color, unex])ected, disturbed from its 

 piscatorial pursuits, a red breasted merganser, or shell 

 drake, frantically seeking safety in the distance. 



The gentle breezes are gaining in force, the waters 

 leaping in challenge, and our spirits rise to the combat, 

 triumphant and happy. We reach the great flood plains, 

 where the early waters had risen ten feet, impounded by 

 gorges of ice : the scraping of bark, the breaking of limb, 

 the bending of bough and the deposits of debris clearly 

 mark the distance. Below, everhanging the water or 

 close to its edge, we note the nests of vireo, goldfinch, 

 and yellow warbler, each distinct in its characteristics, 

 two which held a little family, while the other met with 

 misfortune. And yonder nest of the oriole, swinging vio- 

 lently in the wind, where is its tropical tenant now ? But 

 ahead of us there is a great commotion, a flapping of 

 many wings, an unrest, a general alarm, a black cloud of 

 crows, many thousands, gathered in a mightv flock near 

 their roost, or bound southward, we did not learn. 

 Woodpeckers, creepers, jays and' chickadees, we also note 

 as we drift along, also a flock of green heads and a hunt- 

 ing rough legged hawk. 



Here the winding course of the river is tugging at 

 the very foundation of a magnificent elm, its tO]) already 

 leaning, acknowledging ultimate defeat. .\nd ahead we 

 see another elm, in the last struggle, all submerged but 

 the mighty top, a victim to the relentless forces of its 

 one time benefactor. Here where the north bank falls 

 sharply to the water level, shutting off the north wind, 

 ]>rotected by the warm va]iors oi the stream, we find 

 sncezeweed in bloom. And to belie the lateness of the 

 season, we hear the dry rattle of a kingfisher, and soon 

 perceive him unconcernedly pl\ ing his trade ; curiously 

 we level our glasses on another bird percher in a willow 

 and yet another to learn that one is a rusty blackbird, 

 the oilier a red-winged blackbird. 



The appended list gives authentic data of the niove- 

 nuiiis of birds during December in Northern Illinois, 

 which region falls within what is known as the Missis- 

 sippi \'alley region, though the river is a hundred miles 

 to the west. This valley is an important highway of bird 

 migrations in that it offers a comparatively easy outlet 

 to the south. The birds mentioned in the canoe trip and 

 not in the list are in some instances occasional winter resi- 

 dents or simpiv isolated cases due to exceptionally mild 

 weather, and therefore are not included in the check list. 

 .•\RRT\'.\T.S 



noccinbcr 30... ...White-winged crossbill 



ni'P.ARTURRS 



December 5 Loon 



December S Double crested cormorant 



Dccemlier 10 . P!ne siskin 



December 10 ...Bohemian waxwing 



December 12 Riistv blackbird 



