Laura Erickson’s For the Birds

NARRATOR: For 50 weeks of the year, Grand Marais, Minnesota is a small corner of boreal heaven, basking contentedly on the shores of Lake Superior under the northern sky. During the other two weeks, as colleges all over the country disgorge their students for Easter vacation, a change comes over this quiet hamlet. The students swarm to these peaceful shores in droves, 20,000 strong. They turn night into day, and this small corner of heaven into a sizeable chunk of bedlam. A few of the students come for the fishing, the fun, and a few kegs of beer. The bird watchers come because rare birds flock there during migration, because, very simply, Grand Marais is where the boids are.

CALIFORNIA RAVENS:

Where the boids are, lifers wait for me.
Fieldfares and mockingbirds,
King Eiders and Fork-tailed Flycatchers.
Where the boids are, up in Grand Marais,
Migrants fill each spotting scope.
And rare birds are seen every day…

MERRITT: Hurry up Tuggle, a Gyrfalcon was seen this morning!

TUGGLE: Wait! I almost forgot my negligee. Hey, did you pack your swimsuit?

MERRITT: I’m hardly going to spend my time sleeping or swimming. Boreal Owls have been calling this week, and kinglets are coming through.

TUGGLE: Come on Merritt, there’s more to life than just birds.. The birds and the bees for one thing.

MERRITT: Not for me.

TUGGLE: Yee gods, Merritt, you’ve got a one track mind.

MERRITT: Let’s get going, I need that Gyrfalcon for my year list.

CALIFORNIA RAVENS:

Where the boids are, that’s where I must be.
Where the boids are, where the boids are,
where the boids are, rare birds wait for me.

TUGGLE: Hey, look!

MERRITT: Yeah, a dark-morph Rough-legged Hawk!

TUGGLE: Not that. A hitchhiker! Hi, looking for a ride?

JIM BAKER: Yep, my name’s JB, but you can call me BJ for short. My car broke down and I’m headed up to Grand Marais.

TUGGLE: Well, that isn’t the nicest coincidence, so are we.

MERRITT: Look, a Northern Shrike! I needed that for my April list.

JIM BAKER: You’re one of those birders who keep lists?

MERRITT: You’re not?

JIM BAKER: Nah, I just look at Blue Jays. I’m going up to Grand Marais to check out their interactions with Gray Jays.

MERRITT: Me, I’m a lister. Hey look! A Glaucous Gull!

TUGGLE: I’m a birder watcher. You available?

JIM BAKER: Give me a break! Hey there’s another hitchhiker, wanna give him a lift?

TUGGLE: Sure—he’s a guy.

MERRITT: Look, another rough-leg.

TUGGLE: How can you tell? He’s wearing pants. Hey, big fella, wanna ride?

RYDER: Sure, I was so busy watching a flock of gulls go by—I think there was an Iceland with them, but it might have been just a Thayer’s—that I didn’t even notice that someone drove off with my car.

MERRITT: Hey look—there goes a Peregrine!

RYDER: Wow, you’re right, you have good eyes.

MERRITT: I just hope we don’t miss the Gyrfalcon in Grand Marais.

NARRATOR: Meanwhile, at police headquarters in Grand Marais, the captain of the police force is talking to a group of officers.

CAPTAIN: Officers, the city of Grand Marais is under siege from the south. We’ve survived it before, and I think we’re going to survive it again. The birders of America are gathering to celebrate the rites of spring, and while they are in our fair city, be as tolerant as you can. We just dispatched Car 7 to Sven and Ole’s Pizza Parlor—another tripod jousting thing going on there. Some of this gets old pretty quick. Just be careful out there.

MERRITT: Get up, Tuggle. Someone said there’s a Townsend’s Solitaire near Good Harbor Bay. Let’s get cracking!

TUGGLE: Uuuuuh..

MERRITT: Come on, Tuggle. Remember, Good Harbor Bay is where BJ’s headed today.

TUGGLE: Oh, okay. Oooh, it’s 4:30. Why couldn’t I have taken up bridge?

RYDER: Shh.

TUGGLE: Hi, big boy. Is that a woodpecker? Or are you just happy to see me?

RYDER: Shh. It’s a Black-backed Woodpecker.

MERRITT: It’s a pair, and it looks like they’ve got a nest hole up there.

RYDER: You’re right. Hey, wanna go check out the Gunflint?

MERRITT: Sure.

TUGGLE: What about me?

JIM BAKER: Anybody see a swarm of Blue Jays? They were mobbing a Great Horned Owl and suddenly they just vamoosed.

TUGGLE: Oh, I just love that spotting scope of yours. It’s so long.

JIM BAKER: Here, you carry it for me. I need both hands free to toss some Baker’s Blue Jay Blend to them. I’m trying my hand at digiscoping.

TUGGLE: Hmm, sounds sexy.

JIM BAKER: Wait till I show you my pictures.

NARRATOR: One week later at police headquarters.

CAPTAIN: Officers? We’ve come through this spring break with our honor and our city intact thanks to your resourcefulness. Officer Kelly defused a brawl when he pulled a field guide out of his holster and correctly identified the bird under question as a Ruffed Grouse, and led the group up the Gunflint to show them a Spruce Grouse. Officer Swenson protected both a city park and a Boreal Owl nest by setting up a scope on a roof across the street, helping birders to see it from there. Officer Peterson kept close watch on those drinking contests where they down a shot for every warbler song they identify. And Gustavsson and Swanson kept watch over our highways providing designated drivers for anyone who couldn’t pass a bird without pulling their binoculars up at the wheel. We’ve survived and now it’s time for a well deserved break.

MERRITT: Oh, it’s hard to believe spring break is over. I’m so glad we finally found that Gyrfalcon.

TUGGLE: Time sure flies, but next week B.J. has taken me to his place up the shore a ways to show me his Blue Jay photos. This could be it, Merritt. How about you and your dream boat? You sure came in late last night.

MERRITT: Yeah, we were listening for Boreal Owls on the Gunflint again and we found two. I’m coming back next weekend to see if I can find their nest holes. Hey, listen, isn’t that a palm warbler?

TUGGLE: Yee gads. Such a one track mind.

MERRITT: Ooh, a Boreal Chickadee! Goodbye, Grand Marais. Till next time.

CALIFORNIA RAVENS:

Till I see them, I’ll wait impatiently,
Where the boids are, where the boids are,
Where the boids are lifers wait for me.