I have always looked forward to the month of April in southeastern Arizona, for it brings a great diversity and large numbers of migrant birds to the land – or does it? The first time that I birded the San Pedro River was in April of 1977. In a word, that was a stunning experience. The numbers of birds were incredible, as were the variety of species. Today, the story could hardly be more different.
Migrant songbirds (and other migratory species) have been steadily declining ever since Europeans began to populate the North American continent. The rate of decline was slow at first, but it has increased continually through the centuries. During the past several decades, declines in bird populations have become so severe that some birds have become extinct, while others are persisting by the thinnest of threads.
Here in the Middle San Pedro Valley, I have been participating in avian surveys and have been keeping detailed records of local bird life for 21 years. The data is disheartening, but this year has been the worst thus far. Numerous species that have appeared on schedule at our property every past April are simply not appearing. Many others are here in very low numbers. Sadly, close to 100% of these declines are attributable to mankind. Overpopulation, urban expansion, climate change, pesticides and herbicides, tremendous habitat losses, loose house cats, and more add up to a world that is becoming quieter and quieter every spring.
What is spring without bird song?
Other happenings in the natural world have been occurring as well, ones that are not disheartening. Lizards and snakes have awakened from their winter brumation to add their grace, color, and life to the land. A few days ago, a Sonoran gopher snake appeared a few feet from my doorway, followed by the year’s first diamondback rattlesnake and the emergence of Clark’s spiny lizards. Our resident ravens, Mike and Mavis, have successfully hatched yet another brood and are very busy keeping their youngsters well fed. A nice abundance of wildflowers is coloring the upland slopes.
Every year in this valley seems to bring its own explosion of certain insects. Earlier this month, incredible numbers of crane flies could be seen. I recall walks where every step flushed 20 or more from the surface of the ground. Crane flies belong to the family Tipulidae, with over 15,000 species worldwide. They are a successful and adaptable group of insects, for their presence in the fossil record dates back over 70,000,000 million years.
The Middle San Pedro Valley sprawls across nearly one million acres of undeveloped, unfragmented land in southeastern Arizona. Its slopes and woodlands, bajadas and ridges have been rimed with frost every dawn under the abbreviated touch of winter’s Sun. Days are short. The land stands hushed and still with its seasonal absence of many birds, reptiles, and other forms of life. Nonetheless, there are many good reasons to get outside and walk the land. January and February have brought a few surprises, particularly in the way of unexpected sightings of locally uncommon birds.
In late January, five purple finches began frequenting our bird feeders, thinking they were well concealed within mobs of house finches and lesser goldfinches. My wife’s sharp eyes picked them out of the crowd. In 20+ years of avian record keeping in this valley, that was the first time we had ever seen purple finches. Another species that has been sighted sparingly here during the winter months is the American robin. For reasons that remain a mystery to me, we have been inundated with robins this winter. They bring me many fond memories of their near-constant presence during past summers when I lived in the northern states.
Speaking of thrushes, another bird that I had never seen in the valley before has arrived to grace the nearby riverbottom woodlands this winter – a Townsend’s solitaire. A friend and neighbor, Tom Talbott, first sighted one about a week ago in the forests along the river not far from our home. Tom is a highly skilled birder and a masterful wildlife photographer. A few days later, walking the same reaches of the river, a friend and I also saw a solitaire. News has been spreading of numerous sightings of this species in areas just a few dozen miles to the north.