Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1882-02-15
Our Winter Birds.

Our winter birds-what are thay2 Snow
birds aud the snowy owl, these make up,
perhaps, the winter ornithology of the popu
lar mind; but, in truth, we have more
friends about us than these winter visitors.
First, there are the friends who stay by us
the year round-technically "permanent
residents" Many more birds than is COM
monty known Or suspected abide or wander
near us through seasons of snow and cold,
when, living shrinkingly ourselves in the
luxury of an artificial atmosphere, and look.
ing out shudderingly through our frosted
windows, we may almost instinctively think
of outdoor life as quite impracticable for any
creature who does not possess, by nature or
by art, a fur coat. If, however, we have
the good sense, in any but extreme weather,
to run out doors as we'll dressed as a chicka-
dee, and undertake to be as active we soon
find that our vitality is not only very well
preserved, but develops into that delight
full glow which only the active sports Of a
winter afternoon can bring to us. In the
first place our winter birds are very well
dressed, as their wardrobes when examined
always show and then they feed well, living
either upon oily or albuminous seeds or upon
fat and meat, thus getting a store of animal
heat, quickly converted and utilized by their
active digestion and circulation. No doubt,
in spite of evergreens and hollow trees, and
of the chance tenements that man uninten-
tionally provides about his own, many birds
are every winter overcome by storm and
stress even the kindly snow, at first a COM
forter or quilt to the poor huddled quail,
may, when frozen to crust, become their un-
inscribed tombstones, burying them in the
most silent of silent graves. Quail are
among the few species who individually
live in one locality the year round. Among
most species there is, in autumn, general
southwark movement, carrying some out OF
sight, to us in New England, and bringing
others from the north, either as winter visi
tants or else, so to speak, vice-summer resi-
dents. In other words, if you see robin
about here III mid inter, You may be pretty
sure he is not the fellow who built his nest
in your garden last summer, but rather one
who was then in Labrador perhaps, and has
now come down to what is to him the south
A midwinter robin is not a familiar thought
yet he is not rare fact, as we may By
chance learn if we look into evergreen
swamps or over cedar-covered hillsides. The
next time you see the annual newspaper
paragraph that the robin has returned ex
traordinarily early, don't believe that sprinI
is going to follow after; at least, it won
tread on that robins heels OF course, fey
of the more highly organized insectivorou
birds do or can abide our winters; thos
few live chiefly then on berries and othe
soft, persistent fruits particularly hauntin
red cedars, mountain ashes and the poiso
"ivy.") We cannot count upon our winte
friends as upon our summer neighbor
among the birds; more especially irregula
and nomadic are our arctic visitants, tn
laws of whose seemingly eccentric NOV,
ments are not yet known to u.s. The foo
supply of arctic regions is what mos. prol
ably determines their sudden appearance
! southwark, sometimes in great number
Not many years ago, for instance, snow
owls became extraordinarily abundant abo,
Boston, so that even in the city many wei
taken. Although we cannot see a snow
3 : owl every January day, still let us wand'
l forth, content to be enlivened by his less
. brethren, if happily we may find them b
: fore they have gone to their long winter
u night rest.
. Let us trudge TO the woods. You may r
= member having seen in autumn, when da.
u and leaves were getting crisper, a lit
troop or brotherhood of woodland bird
. merrily strolling or travelling together
'' mixed assemblage, but every one happy
his own way, and happy in the others, to
| very lhcl1 VIC uud VI buC
together yet, as regardless as ever of ii
outside world, and as unsuspicious, appa
re emily, that man isn't nearly as innocent
lie are they themselves. The little fellows ar
IT. to be sure, much engrossed in the busine
is of life but they never lose their senses
10 fellowship, or of the joliness of life-at lea
te the jolliness SO long as everybody minds h
n. own business.
er Here, where the white birches fringe o
er path, are animated little golden crowns,
1t kinglets. Astonishing isn't ii, that tn
ne should want to be about when the mercu
er is half out of sight Z Really, they a
in scarcely bigger than hummingbirds
n after ALL what is one of them but a lit
ed animated bunch of feathers, lined wi
ly down You won't often fiud one alone.
or pairs or parties they traverse the trees, fit
!" ing in their cracks and crevises the inse
in eggs or other dainties that they like. Tn
,e- sentiment for white birches is, fear, no
ad ing but knowledge of the market. Th'
o, kinglets haven't much to say, though tn
er cousins, the ruby-crowns, no bigger th
they, are full-voiced and delightful lit
singers, when spring looses their froz
notes. Now and then a golden-crown si
tsee.tsee-tsee but ordinarily has but ratl
feeble lisp, that you can hardly tell from
So brown creepers.
| The creeper Do you see him scra
so bling up that pine Oh you're not qui
10 enough; he's out of sight. Round he con
'e, again, now scrambling straight up, n
Die circling, but always aspiring upwards.
at does seem like stupid work; but he do
Tut think so. He likes it so well that he is
res ing to begin on that tree all over aga
lie, Back to the foot he goes and up the tru
od again, and then in low and wavering flil
'ur is off to another near, a pine or oak.-W
as cester Natural History Society,