I love sitting on my front porch in the early morning with a cup (okay, more like a carafe) of coffee, as the birds begin their morning chorus. Even before the sun rises, I can hear the mockingbirds, wrens and cardinals letting me know they are awake. Being an early bird myself, I welcome the company as the light starts to kiss the tops of the oaks in my front yard.
Knowing when fall has arrived can be a little tricky in northeast Florida, especially if pumpkin-spiced everything is your marker, which seems to arrive earlier every year. The weather can also be misleading. I had to stop myself from saying aloud “it almost feels like fall” after feeling a slight breeze on a recent evening beach walk, for fear that I may somehow jinx it. But I’ve found a more reliable marker.
I take a sip of my coffee and then I hear it. A new sound catches my ear: a long chitter. I reach for my binoculars. My eyes dart around the tree canopy, and then I see it. A flash of brilliant orange comes into focus. The first Baltimore oriole of the season. In that moment, I know the fall bird migration is in full swing.
For several years, my husband and I have recorded our first Baltimore oriole sighting. Sept. 12, Sept. 14, Sept. 15. Their return has become a seasonal rhythm we can anticipate.
Migration is a phenomenon that happens with or without us. I love the idea that a bird visiting my yard may have traveled here from another person’s yard up north while on its way south to Central America. It gives me a sense of shared stewardship with people in cities and countries I may never meet.
On any migration night, there could be thousands of birds flying overhead while most of us are sleeping. But nighttime travel has its own risks. Bright artificial lights common in our neighborhoods can distract these feathered travelers and pull them off course.
We often leave lights on out of habit, not because we are actively using them. At our house, we asked ourselves: Is this light on because we need it, or simply because turning it on is what we always do?
We now use timers to turn outdoor lights off by 11 p.m., motion sensors for security lighting and warmer, downward-facing bulbs where lighting is needed.
While our local Lights Out Northeast Florida campaign periods run September through November and March through May, we use these practices at home year-round. For us, it’s a small shift in habit that involves doing less.
As the fall bird migration takes full flight, take a moment to stop and listen. Consider having a few sips of coffee from your own front porch, and you may just be surprised by what you hear.
