The following is a post I sent to the Art Department, which found fault in my sagacious words and refused to supply any art for the post (leaving me to create my own). They sent me instead the letter found in Part II below.
PART I: Robins Rule, Bluebirds Drool
And now for something unnecessarily negative!
Overrated bird of the day:
Eastern Bluebird. (Art: Me)
I’ve yet to find a bird I can’t appreciate, but I must also confess that I’m sometimes baffled by the special popularity of certain birds. Take, for example, the Eastern Bluebird. People love bluebirds and, hey, I’m delighted for them—for the bluebirds and the bluebird lovers. I certainly understand the thrill of seeing that striking flash of blue darting across a field at sunrise. But I can’t seem to understand why it’s a favorite of so many. Let’s be honest: it’s a robin with slightly brighter plumage. It eats
worms and has an average singing voice, at best. Its coloration is often dusty and mottled and certainly less brilliant than many other common backyard birds like Northern Cardinals, American Goldfinches, and even Blue Jays. It in no way resembles those cute animated birds flitting around Snow White.
See that backlit bluebird on the power line there? Oh, wait, nope, that’s a robin. Exactly.
Underrated bird of the day:
American Robin. (Art: Me)
But, come to think of it, the American Robin is actually quite special in my mind. Part of my fascination is just nostalgic, I suppose: the “robin red-breast” was the first bird I could recognize as a child, the first bird whose nest I saw up close, the first bird whose broken eggs I found on the sidewalk. Like any very common bird, we tend to overlook them—I’m as guilty as anyone—but I found on a recent birding trip that, outside their usual context of poking around the front lawn, they’re quite stunning. I found a group of robins deep in the woods sifting through leaves in the shade and it was suddenly like seeing them for the first time. Indeed, were this bird new to me, I’d be enthralled by the burnt orange breast and white rump, the white eye-ring, the streaked and stippled throat, the slender yellow bill with a dark tip. I’d be impressed by the way they thrive just about anywhere and yet never make a nuisance of themselves. I’d marvel at their lovely morning song and the relaxed way they forage, tugging worms out of the earth as if they could see through the topsoil. I’d be charmed by their confident, relaxed demeanor—none of the squabbling of finches, nor the bravado of mockingbirds, nor the dogmatic workaholism of cardinals, nor the skullduggery of Blue Jays, nor the fretfulness of sparrows. They eat bugs in the morning and then nibble on berries and fruit later in the day, sometimes getting drunk on honeysuckle.
“Oh, is it winter already?” they ask as other birds prepare for migration. “Whatevs. We’re good right here.”
(They’re good, that is, as long as you haven’t drenched your lawn in pesticides and herbicides, in which case they’re screwed. Be kind to your robins, please!)
Let’s remember to appreciate the birds that are most abundant, most present in our lives. Sure, it’s overwhelmingly exciting to spot a rare seasonal bird or see a particular species for the first time. I get it. The first time I saw an Indigo Bunting, I almost hyperventilated. And the first time I saw a Summer Tanager, I nearly wept. (Okay, fine, I wept without qualification.) But let’s also celebrate the common birds who live with us every day, the ones that flutter at the sound of your front door opening and clear a path as you drive down the block. They’re the ones we can watch day after day and study in detail. They nest in our yards and lead their fledglings to our bird-feeders. Their familiar songs brighten our mornings and late afternoons. When we want to observe bird behavior, it’s the robins and cardinals and titmice and house finches who, thankfully, don’t mind having such nosy neighbors.
And the “overrated” Eastern Bluebirds? They’re a gorgeous treat all summer. Ah, if only more birds were overrated. Let’s overrate American Robins. And European Starlings, while we’re at it, with their constellation of iridescence, and Brown Thrashers with their virtuosic concertos, and Chipping Sparrows with their strikingly handsome brows and dainty two-hop locomotion. One can’t, after all, overhype the magnificence of a creature that can freaking fly, nor one that is extravagantly marked and colored, nor one that can build its own house, nor one that sings.
A friend of mine likes to tell a joke about trying to turn her House Finches into Purple Finches, a rarer, brighter specimen. Yes, I’d be thrilled to see a Purple Finch at my feeder, but I love the House Finches and, like a reliable friend, they show up every day to complain that we’re out of sunflower seeds again. Common beauty is that much more beautiful, perhaps, for its abundance.
PART II: The Art Department Defects
Dear Dr. Plumage:
I regret to inform you that I am unable to furnish any art for your recent blog post titled, “The Over/Under: Bluebirds and Robins.”
While the post’s conclusion is thoughtful and poignant, I must take exception to your opening salvo. I cannot abide by your blatant disrespect toward the Eastern Bluebird, one of Americans’ most beloved birds. It is tantamount to libel against the millions of great Americans in the great states of Missouri and New York, who have rightfully named the Eastern Bluebird as their state bird, and with whom I stand in solidarity today.
Moreover, I would like to clarify a few facts for the sake of your readers:
A) Eastern Bluebirds are not as similar to American Robins as you claim. In fact, they are about 2/3s the size. We all know that smaller things are cuter.
B) Your assertion that Eastern Bluebirds have only “slightly brighter plumage than a robin” and can appear “dusty and mottled” are patently false. I can only speculate as to why you would make such ludicrous statements.
Hypothesis #1: You’ve been using Pixar’s Lenny for bins. He doesn’t transmit color very well.- Hypothesis #2: You’ve never actually seen an Eastern Bluebird. Perhaps this is because they don’t often come to feeders, and your idea of birding is sitting on the couch watching reruns of The West Wing, occasionally turning around to mull over the feeder action.
- Hypothesis #3: You’re colorblind. Test yourself here. It’s okay, really. Colorblind people are people too. You are still deserving of love. It’s good that you know now, so you won’t make a fool of yourself with things like this blog post ever again.
C) Re: Snow White’s birdie friends. It’s a cartoon. Relax.
D) If the American Robin wants to be as well-loved as the bluebird, why doesn’t it just be prettier?
The movement of a bluebird dropping down from a perch to catch an insect is somehow both showy and understated. They possess the elegance and earnestness of Mikhail Baryshnikov in his prime.
“If I ever go looking for my heart’s desire again, I won’t look any further than my own back yard!”
Maybe the bluebird doesn’t have the other-worldly voice of the nightingale, nor the wide repertoire of the Brown Thrasher, but he still makes a joyful noise. In fact, a male bluebird will serenade his mate with a soft, whistled song while she lays eggs. If you cannot admire that, Dr. Plumage, you have no appreciation for true love, nor for anything beautiful in the world at all.
(Photo: Steve Greer, New Jersey Photography, Lumberton NJ)
I should also add that bluebirds have a lot to offer the novice bird-watcher who is interested in behavior. He or she will appreciate sexual dimorphism in the plumage of both adults and juveniles—a relatively rare phenomenon—allowing for easy sex differentiation. (Robins are fine birds, no doubt, but a robin is a robin is a robin.) Bluebirds also forage in open areas in spring and summer and are amenable to man-made nest boxes; their bright color makes them hard to miss, even in trees. Paragons of accessibility, they are.
Bluebirds rushing to defend their nest box from a hungry starling. (Photo: David Kinneer)
Funny that you mention European Starlings as a bird we should appreciate more. European Starlings are named Sturnus vulgaris for a reason. Vulgar, indeed! Eastern Bluebird populations have fallen by as much as 90% in recent decades due to loss of habitat and diminished availability of food sources, particularly in winter. Were you aware, Dr. Plumage, that starlings are a non-native species and are very aggressive toward bluebirds? They out-compete would-be bluebird parents for natural nest cavities. Flocks of rapacious starlings—up to 100,000 in number—blitz fields of wild berries and strip them clean before moving on to the next unsuspecting ravine. These are the self-same wild berry fields upon which our beloved Eastern Bluebirds depend in the winter months. Most appallingly, starlings attack adult and juvenile bluebirds. Have you ever had a bluebird nest box turn into a scene reminiscent of the Saw franchise?
If you found starving baby bluebirds inside, you may well have starlings to thank for eating the parents.
Bruised, maimed, or partially eaten nestlings? Probably the work of starlings.
Chunks of the nest missing? Picture an innocent nestling clinging to the nest fibers as she is ripped away by a starling.
Nestlings who are so terrified when you check the box that they cleave to the back wall to get away? Those sweet babies are likely having flashbacks of home invasions by starlings.
These babies are overrated. The invasive birds that eat their little heads off are underrated. (GIF: Art Department; Logic: Dr. Plumage)
Side note: House Sparrows, another invasive species, are also PSYCHOPATHIC BABY KILLERS who will enter bluebird nest boxes and peck the sweet baby bluebirds to death. TO DEATH. But, no doubt, you are also a card-carrying member of the House Sparrow Appreciation Society. And I bet that when you aren’t birding, you’re writing love letters to imprisoned serial killers.
Hapless Aberrant Plumage reader
In conclusion, I simply cannot participate in the publication of this post, Dr. Plumage, in which you denigrate Eastern Bluebirds and, in practically the same breath, encourage readers to “overrate” European Starlings. (What would that even mean? Giving them an “F” instead of an “F-minus?”) I fear the effects this post could have on America’s beloved native bluebird population, should your countless droves of readers nationwide abandon their bluebird nest boxes and surrender to the hostile takeover of European Starlings on our amber waves of grain.
I, for one, will not condone it.
With righteous indignation,
The Art Department
Learn more:
http://www.sialis.org/: Information on the bluebirds Dr. Plumage doesn’t care about.
http://www.nabluebirdsociety.org/: Consider joining the North American Bluebird Society to help fight the scourge that is Dr. Plumage.
Photographer David Kinneer offers a wonderful collection of Eastern Bluebird photos at https://secondcousindave.smugmug.com/Eastern-Bluebirds/. He captures bluebird behavior so beautifully that even Dr. Plumage might appreciate it (on a good day).
A respectful disagreement arises among the Aberrant Plumage staff.
The civil discourse continues most humbly and considerately.
Aberrant Plumage 