September Migration by Helen Cruickshank

Submitted by Jim Eager

This is a short story written by Helen Cruickshank, who as many of you know teamed with husband, Allan, and between them were legends in the field of ornithology, photography, lecturing and field trip leading not only in and around Cocoa, but throughout Florida and North America.  Their contributions were immense.

Helen died in March 1994 at the age of 92.  In 1988, just before the first issue of that year's The Limpkin, the chapter newsletter for Indian River Audubon, Bob Brown asked Helen if she would consider writing a monthly article for publication.  She agreed.  The year after her death Indian River Audubon published  "The Nature of Helen",  a collection of her essays.

Of the approximately 9,000 species of birds in the world more than half make annual migrations. Some species may only drop from a high alpine meadow to the valley below and reverse that brief journey in the spring. Others span the vast seas or the continents. The Arctic Tern is regarded the world champion of migrants. Some nest on open ground within 400 miles of the North Pole and some spend our winter on the Antarctic Sea which is enjoying its summer days.

Scientists speculate that billions of individual birds make annual migrations. By fall much of the fine spring plumage of birds has changed. Peterson's "Guide" even has a section called "Confusing Fall Warblers" to warn us to use caution in identifying birds then. The number of fall migrants is much greater than in spring for the host of adult birds is swollen by young of the year that have survived the dangers of youth long enough to leave their birth place. To me there is an exciting sense of adventure and romance in fall migration for the birds are moving toward strange places I would love to see and they will associate with beautiful and wonderful birds I know only from books.

Though Purple Martin migration begins in July it does not peak until September. In some parts of the country the martins form tremendous flocks. Strangely, this largest and most loved of our swallows often faces great danger when a flock settles in town for the night. Some people are so infuriated by their twittering and numbers men have been known to blast them with shot guns. Many of the martins that successfully complete their dangerous migration will spend our winter scattered widely over the northern half of South America.

Like many insect-eaters, Common Nighthawks feed as they travel and in September flocks of a hundred or more in erratic flight move steadily south over Brevard County. Some of them will travel all the way to Argentina where they may catch insects put to flight by rheas or screamers or long-tailed meadowlarks that have a bright red breast.

Periodic flocks of Chimney Swifts move south over Brevard in September. Their roosting habits are spectacular. Late one afternoon in Tallahassee I watched a loose flock draw together in a compact mass and from it a thin stem of whirling birds began to drop and this grew longer and longer like the funnel of a tornado. Then suddenly the tip of the rope-like group plunged into a tall chimney in the middle of the city. In moments the entire flock had vanished. At dawn the next day they continued on their way, many to spend our winter in the upper part of the Amazon. Would some of them see a cock-of-the-rock? Or even that parakeet so recently discovered by Robert Ridgely that its description has not yet been published?

On some September days I see Black Terns moving steadily down the Indian River. They are cosmopolitan birds occurring in suitable habitat around the world. In imagination they can take us to African lakes such as Nakuru where a million flamingos feed or to the shores of Patagonia where penguins congregate or the coast of Chile where condors drop from great heights to feed on carrion cast ashore by the Pacific.

These are common birds known to all of us. Except for the martin, their voices are not very pleasing. Their plumage is prosaic. Yet what wonderful lives they live! Fall migration, lacking in brilliance of breeding birds, is quite as exciting as the arrival of birds in spring.