Birding til we drop
Bird-a-thon, changing bad bird names, new chances for land conservation, and plant of the week
I’m back in Quincy for a couple of days to take part in the Mass Audubon Bird-a-thon. I’m on a team of birders trying to rack up the most species over a 24-hour period from Friday at 6 p.m. to Saturday at 6 p.m. Our team members are fanning out all over the state in the hopes of catching uncommon or rare species in the act of migrating. That’s the fun part of spring migration: you never know what you’ll get, even when visiting a place you’ve been to dozens of times.
The point, of course, is to raise funds for conservation, environmental education, and everything else Mass Audubon does. If you feel like supporting our team, Metro South Sanctuaries—which includes the beloved Trailside Museum at Blue Hills—you can chip in a dollar or two here.
My target sites are the former South Weymouth Naval Air Station—a grassland that I’ve written about before—and Mt. Auburn Cemetery, a notorious spot for warblers, vireos and more seeking out green space in the middle of Cambridge. I hope to come back with some fun pictures or at least a first-of-year sunburn.
President of ornithological group supports changing harmful bird names
Here at Possum Notes we’ve been following the Bird Names for Birds movement since back in July. The goal is to change official bird names such as Bachman’s Warbler that don’t tell you a thing about the species and instead honor a rogue’s gallery of enslavers, colonizers, and killers of wildlife. This week, the president of the American Ornithological Society said that the group’s leadership supports “changing exclusionary or harmful bird names, where that’s necessary.” An AOS committee, the North American Classification Committee, regulates these names, making this a meaningful statement.
I could nitpick about how the president’s quotes in the linked article offer less than full-throated support, but I think now’s the time to give credit to the organizers of the Bird Names for Birds campaign and everyone who has kept up the pressure on social media, letter-writing campaigns, and meetings. It’s working. Updated field guides are a goal that’s now in sight. You love to see it.
Two new opportunities for land conservation in the South Shore
Hat-tip to Nate Marchessault for passing along two new land conservation efforts in the South Shore. In one project, the Buzzards Bay Coalition is partnering with the Rochester Land Trust to purchase Doggett Brook Farm in Rochester. By adding a permanent Conservation Restriction, the site’s agricultural fields could provide crucial habitat for migratory birds and other wildlife. Contribute to the fundraiser here.
In another effort, the Wildlands Trust is working to purchase Sylvester Field in Hanover. The field lies along a tributary of the North River, which many birds, including the elusive Sora and other secretive marsh birds, use as a migratory corridor through the South Shore. Large numbers of Marsh Wrens breed in the wild rice marshes of the North River watershed. A donor has offered to match gifts—contribute here.
Looking at the region from a satellite, you might think that any chances to conserve land have been used up. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s exciting to see these organizations making use of every opportunity to preserve more landscapes for wildlife and people.
Plant of the week: Wild violet
Common blue violet (Viola soraria) is edible, but Illinois Wildflowers points out that it’s not their most salient trait. “The taste is bland,” the site concludes concisely. Maybe it’s best to just enjoy the color and unique shape of violets for their intrinsic value. In eastern North America, I think of May as blue-purple season in the wildflower calendar, preceded by white season of early spring and followed by yellow season of high summer (sunflowers, goldenrods). Then, blues and purples make a comeback during fall aster season. Very rough delineations with lots of exceptions—but take a look for yourself and see what you think.
Violets have a quirky approach to reproduction that works even if they sprout in rough spots. They’re cleistogamous, meaning that the flowers don’t open to attract pollinators but instead remain closed and self-pollinate internally. In that way, the plant ensures seed production regardless of its circumstances. After the flower produces seeds, the seed pod flings its contents with mechanical force to spread the violet colony a little further.
I remember grappling with violets in dry spots of the yard growing up. We classed them as a weed, but in retrospect maybe we should have considered them doing us a favor for growing in dry, compacted soil where little else could.
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Possum Notes is a weekly newsletter about wildlife and landscapes around where I live. It’s produced on occupied Massachusett and Wampanoag land.