Robert Tougias - Birder on Berry Lane: Three Acres, Twelve Months, Thousands of Birds

I CONSIDER MYSELF FORTUNATE to have grown up in a quiet suburban town that still had a few remaining woodlands. When I was only eight years old, those forgotten forest sanctuaries diverted my attention and beckoned me to enter them. Soon, the day came when I discovered their rich birdlife. I have fond memories of those carefree days, but unlike many who at that age shared those quiet woodland experiences, in me they took hold and continued into my adulthood, transforming me into a true naturalist with a keen focus on birding.

My father once said that, because of my infatuation with wild birds, he should have given me the middle name Blue Jay instead of simply Jay. My dad had a great sense of humor, but he was also supportive. He encouraged my interests, and I followed through by learning as much as I could about birds. What began as a spark, his guidance fanned into a flame. And from that intense passion and much research, Im now able to present an array of interesting facts about the biology, migration, and conservation of birds, both common and uncommon.

In Birder on Berry Lane, I share observations of specific species and, in some cases, about individual birds from my locale during the course of a year. I take you along into my back woodlot to see what we might encounter. I guide you on my walks in the neighborhood and across streams into nearly impenetrable thickets of lush saplings, across sunny meadows, and beneath shaded oak woodlands. I introduce a different approach to the enjoyment of birds.

As a young adult, I left home to pursue an education and start a career. I found myself living in the city, far from the suburban woodlands of my childhood. Although I made weekend trips to the hinterlands and took far-away birding excursions to find those birds of a lifetime, I lacked the daily experience of birdlife happening around me, moment to moment. When I finally embarked on a career and purchased a home on Berry Lane, the opportunity to live among birds returned.

Berry Lane is pleasant, as is my home. Like many, it has a lawn, a shed, and several gardens. It is situated in a quiet town, once completely rural. The homes here are located on former dairy and fruit farms, and many, such as mine, are adjacent to old woodlands where farming was abandoned years ago. This has allowed suburbia to merge with the wild past. I have a small front yard, only a few feet deep, with a long driveway that runs between two neighbors front yards on either side. My home is set back behind them. This arrangement provides me with a good view of the entire neighborhood, which I can see clearly from the living room, high up in my raised ranch. My completely private backyard, however, stretches for almost half a mile. Its beautiful and completely wooded except for a small grassy area scattered with wildflowers. Patches of sunlight shine down through the mighty oaks onto this lush lawn. It is a different world in the backyard, buffered by the house. The suburbia that surrounds our home out in front seems nonexistent.

A condo development sits along the north property line at the far end of my land, but you cant see it, even in winter, save for one small light at night. A small stream defines this property line. My daughter, who lives here on Berry Lane with me, along with our two pets, calls the stream Treasure Run. I used to hide coins for her near the two-by-four wooden bridge crossing the stream. Treasure Run is located at the end of a cul-de-sac on Westerly Drive, which forms the western border of my woodlot. Edgewood Driveanother road that ends in a cul-de-sacmakes up the southeastern border. To the northwestor to my left, as I face the woodlot with the house behind melies a meadow that I named after my daughter because she loved going there to be alone. Across from the meadow, you can see about forty acres of woods. Beyond that, across a street, a large expanse of thickets stretches for many acres, bordered by some thick woods totaling about two hundred acres.

This is my worlda semirural suburban town expanding, due to development, yet holding onto its rural roots in a few quiet corners. Like most residential areas with trees, our neighborhood has squirrels. In fact, the neighborhoodbeing adjacent to mature, acorn-producing oak treesseems overpopulated with them. In any direction, I usually see at least two or three squirrels foraging.

Just like many towns where a few vacant lots persist, we have coyotes and fisher. They have a bad reputation and are blamed for missing cats and empty dog food bowls. We have fox, too. They never get blamed for anything: neighbors enjoy seeing them with their beautiful thick glossy coats during the winter. Like most of us, I have a love-hate relationship with the deer. They are ever present, and when they are not devouring my vegetable garden, they frequent the edges of woodlots and sometimes the neighborhood, even at noon.