Black-capped Chickadee (Mésange à tête noire)

     

     One of  our most familiar resident birds, and unquestionably one of our most endearing, is Black-capped Chickadee (Poecile atricapillus).  This is a species that is known by almost everyone, birder and non-birder alike. They can be found in your backyard, will readily accept feeders, and will announce themselves by their chickadee-dee-dee call in virtually any copse of trees that provides food, shelter and cover from predators.

     At any time of the year it is not hard to find a chickadee and it is impossible not to be charmed by these little bundles of energy. 

    They are acrobatic and often feed hanging upside down from branches and will glean insects from every conceivable position. They quickly learn where friendly humans deposit seed for them and waste no time in exploiting an accessible source of food. Sunflower seeds seem to be their preferred choice, although they do not hesitate to take peanuts either.

     One of the reasons for the universal popularity of chickadees is that they will feed from the hand. Their confiding nature appeals to young and old alike, and the thrill of having a tiny wild creature display confidence and trust never loses its appeal. I think there is something primal about it, some connection to nature buried in the far recesses of our mind, and perhaps regretted. In a world beset by pollution, climate change, rising sea levels, increased aridity and habitat degradation this simple connection to nature is rendered all the more significant, and touches the psyche in unfathomable ways perhaps.

     It never fails, when I lead nature walks, that the participants are eager to feed a chickadee, whether five years of age or eighty-five. And the birds never fail to oblige.

     We have nest boxes in our backyard (very important for cavity nesting birds, for whom natural cavities are in short supply) and we have several times experienced the joy of watching a pair go about the business of parenthood; the critical function of passing on their genes to the next generation.

     How beautiful are their eggs.

     How helpless are their young.

     Until just a few days later, that is!

     When the nestlings first leave the nest, still wearing some of their downy plumage, they look the part of a parade of friendly clowns.

     Perhaps they look a little grumpy, having left the warmth and security of their nest, where mom and dad took care of them and delivered a constant supply of food.

     For Miriam and me, to watch the annual cycle of birth and regeneration never gets old. The privilege never wanes, our sense of wonder does not fade.

     We have been fortunate beyond measure to have chickadees in our lives. We know it, we acknowledge, we love it. May it continue forever!