Upon the approach of cold weather the wood-chuck, dreading the sting of frost, shuts himself up in his stuffy burrow, to appear no more till the proverbial day when he is supposed to venture out to look for a sign of spring; even then, seeing his shadow, he may retire for another six weeks of poor ventilation. Curiously enough there are many people like the woodchuck in this regard, who think that winter is no time to be outdoors. Unless forced to an occasional exit, they are "shut-ins."
At best they but venture from house to house or for a short walk in a city street. The long "exposure" to overheated and ill-ventilated rooms and to the ravages of the sedentary life is a most dangerous ordeal, producing weakness and inviting the attack of disease. Winter is a glorious time for active exercise outdoors, in some respects even better than summer, and if an interest in the birds can provide an incentive to draw people to the wintry landscape and set them, now and then, to scouring the open, it will be sufficiently justified.
It must be admitted, however, that the scarcity of birds in winter in nearly all localities, save in the far South, tends to discourage many from the quest. Yet there are quite a number of species which winter even in the northern or middle districts, hardy creatures which are able to withstand rigorous conditions of temperature, storm, and scarcity of food. A wonderfully good idea of what birds are to be found in different parts of the country on a winter's walk can be gathered by reading in the January-February number of Bird-Lore each year the reports of the "Christmas Bird-Census."
The number of species seen by various observers in a day is usually from about six to eighteen, sometimes more — usually more on the coast, in the South and on the Pacific Slope. At times, one will hardly see a living thing, but if one has acquired an interest in birds, their very scarcity will make the appearance of the few all the more welcome. The sight even of a single interesting individual under these conditions will give a feeling of pleasure more vivid than might be aroused by many a songster in May.
The birds to be seen on a genuine winter outing are not all the reward. There is a keen joy in ranging the leafless woods and looking through vistas that are closed in the leafy season. Climbing steep hills is a keen delight, when the cold conduces to activity, and one is able to maintain a glow of warmth without being overheated. One can examine glittering cascades of ice, see the forms of the trees, and view miles and miles of country. All that is needed is an incentive to get us out, and the birds supply it.
Before going far afield we shall do well to pay attention to the birds that come to our very doors, seeking food in the time of scarcity. The good custom of putting out food for the birds has now become very general. The insectivorous kinds enjoy a piece of suet, fastened in a tree. It is well to place it by a window where it can be watched readily.
In a mild winter, when food is easy to get, the birds may not use it very much, but let there come a heavy fall of snow followed by bitter cold, and they will be glad to accept our hospitality. In some severe winters I have had birds in numbers at my lunch counter almost constantly every day. Perhaps most numerous will be the little black-capped chickadee, with his breezy manner and cheering songs.
More information about
winter birds.
