HOLT: Look up and listen to the wildlife all around us

By Yvonne Holt

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People look up and see a plain empty blue sky. I look up and see the sky full of so many things. The sky in my neighborhood is full and busy.

I am not a member of the Audubon Society, but I am a birdwatcher. I see birds all around as I walk my dogs. I see the ravens in the tall cedar on the corner and collecting nuts and other food on the ground. I see blackbirds, starlings, and crows foraging for food and then returning to the trees at night, to roost and noisily fight for a place on a branch and discuss their day.

I see families of house sparrows going from building to building, visiting each bird feeder and looking for crumbs along the way. I see the scrub jays in the bushes in the alley, keeping an eye out for worms and nuts dropped by other birds. I hear the mocking birds telling everyone that is their territory. I see hummingbirds visiting feeders at the apartments down the street. Two blocks over, a resident releases the flock of specialty pigeons that he keeps in his backyard. How the robins are able to squeeze into this busy scene is amazing to me.

The local birds chase away the occasional red-tailed hawks. The goldfinches visit backyard feeders down the block. The cedar waxwings come around when the shrub berries are ripe. Turkey vultures circle a few blocks away.

And since I am from the coast, I notice the seagulls as they migrate over the Sierra Nevada to winter and breed at Mono Lake. I notice the large herons and egrets flying from irrigation ditch to irrigation ditch, and the occasional flock of mallard ducks flying between Black Rascal Creek and Bear Creek.

Small, unobtrusive kestrels sit on the utility wires along the country roads. I confirm they are kestrels by the black lines down their cheeks and their posture, which is different from the meadowlarks that live in the field on the other side of the new development. I look for the red tails on the hawks flying overhead, to make sure they are not Cooper's Hawks.

I keep binoculars in my truck to get the occasional look at the flock of golden eagles out by the line between Merced and Mariposa counties. And I like to get closer looks at the terns and wading shorebirds that stop at Lake Yosemite on their migrations.

I like to hear the killdeer call out as they fly around the athletic fields in the evening as I walk through to my quilting class. I see the owls flying overhead when class is done. And that's just the birds!

I see all kinds of things in the sky — airplanes, spider balloons, butterflies. Occasionally I see bats around collecting night insects. I see the gnats and flies swirling at dusk, and I'm surprised there are still mosquitoes despite eradication efforts. I don't step on the honeybees collecting the last of the clover honey, and I get out of the way when a beetle flies by.

Those who believe the environment is being destroyed need only look to the sky to see the fullness of the neighborhood. Or stand under a "singing tree" when the sparrows congregate at night at the end of their nesting season. They will hear nature loud enough.

Holt is a landscape horticulture graduate of Merced College who divides her time between Merced and Mariposa. Write her at columns@modbee.com.