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CURB Out of the Dark

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… five, six miles an hour. That’s usually

suitable for hearing,” he says.

In Horicon, wind speeds hovered

around six miles per hour that night, but

as we’re huddled on the side of the hill,

the gales feel stronger.

After 15 minutes, we get our first gull

sighting: one returning to roost, perhaps

after dining in a landfill in Mayville less

than 10 miles away from here, says Liz

Herzmann, a wildlife educator for the

Horicon Marsh Visitor and Education

Center who is leading tonight’s discussion

with Bahls.

“We’ve had some nights where this

whole area up here is just white with gulls,

just hundreds and hundreds of them,”

Herzmann says.

Not so scared of the dark

Here on the state-owned side of Horicon

Marsh, hunting and trapping is permitted.

Around a half-hour into the watch, the

sound of gunshots in the distance reminds

those of us on the hill that we’re not the

only ones here, nor is birdwatching the

sole objective of human activity on these

lands.

Birders can’t be naive about the dangers

at night that accompany the beauty

they’re seeking. Sometimes the wildlife

they’re looking for can pose its own kind

of threat.

“I was once scraped by a saw-whet owl

in the twilight just before dawn,” McCaffrey

says. “I’ve been calling it, and it had

been calling back. And then, I wasn’t

quite sure where it was, and suddenly,

out of my peripheral vision I saw it coming

right at my head across the top of my

car and ducked, and on my recording,

you can hear my shuffling as I’m ducking

from this little teeny owl that was going

for my head.”

When McCaffrey is out night birding

in Bayfield County, he’s more often than

not looking for owls. He also drives to and

from where he’s birding to avoid the risk

of getting lost in the woods at 1 or 2 a.m.

“I’m more comfortable doing it up

here than I would in a more populated

area,” McCaffrey says. “Because really, my

greatest concern is encounters with people

on these back roads where it’s not many

people doing what I’m doing, so it’s like,

what are they doing back here?”

For birders in more urban settings, risk

is a certain reality of birding at night. Madison

birder Jeff Galligan, who’s seen over

300 bird species in Wisconsin over the

years, describes himself as “very careful”

during his night outings as a Black man.

Galligan says he’s attuned to his surroundings

and where he’s pointing his

camera and binoculars when he’s birding

at night because people, like police, can

make assumptions.

He and Dexter Patterson co-founded

BIPOC Birding Club of Wisconsin this

year precisely for this reason, with the

goal of getting people of color involved

in the predominantly white world of

birding and feel comfortable exploring

Wisconsin’s outdoors. He’s excited about

its potential to expose Madison youth

of color to different perspectives and

opportunities.

“Environmentalism and stewardship

and having a vested interest in things like

reducing the carbon footprint, being

aware of global warming … is something

I want people of color to be seeing and

experiencing more because we all are here

and our children are all going to be inheriting

the same Earth,” Galligan says.

Back at Horicon, two sandhill cranes,

the night’s main attraction, fly about 15

feet from the top of the picnic shelter and

give their strangled honk that jolts me

back into the moment.

River of birds

After 40 minutes a flock of mallards

loops around the picnic shelter, and one

of robins follows soon after. Of all the

waterfowl, wood ducks are the last to

roost tonight.

“If you get a good night you’ll see this

river, of waterfowl, or cranes or whatever,

going from one spot to the other

because they’re just kind of following one

another,” Bahls says.

It’s 5:50 p.m. now, and as the sun sinks

in the sky, the Rock River glistens in the

distance. Still, Bahls and Herzmann don’t

miss a beat at identifying birds for the

thinning crowd. Off in the distance is a

sedge of sandhill cranes, says Herzmann.

“A lot of it is just training your eye in

silhouettes, is how I look at it, so every

bird has a different shape and flight. …

They have different wing beats,” she

says. Bahls can name birds at the drop of

a hat because he’s been birding in Dodge

County his entire life.

The orange band of the sunset thins

away, until night envelops the marsh completely.

Herzmann and Bahls fold up the

scopes they carried in.

It’s 6:24 p.m., the sunset was 15 minutes

ago and just a few of us are left. I hear

the gurgling motor of a duck hunter and

his dog in his airboat first, and then see

the flashing green light that guides him

through the winding Rock River.

As a writer, I chose Horicon because I

wanted to see birds in all their glory and

what brings people to them. But what I

found instead was how nature brings out

“I want people of color to

be seeing and experiencing

more because we all are

here and our children are

all going to be inheriting

the same Earth.”

the best in us. Sure, “...it’s fun to at least

be aware that a huge number of birds can

be flying over you at night at this time of

year,” says Madison Audubon director of

education Carolyn Byers.

But more than that, birders find it

empowering to develop a lifelong connection

with the natural world, to make

new discoveries in familiar places and see a

side of creation while the world is sleeping.

WHAT’S IN YOUR BIRDING BAG?

Six essentials you need to get started

Story and Illustration by Lauryn Azu

Be sure to bundle up, as evening

temperatures in Wisconsin can drop

fast after sunset. “I usually try not to

have synthetic fabrics on the outside of

what I'm wearing, because they can be

surprisingly noisy,” says Brian McCaffrey,

a birder in Bayfield County, Wisconsin.

He likes to wear a Carhartt coat or a

wool sweater to muffle the sound of his

steps and not spook off the birds he’s

looking for ($110, carhartt.com).

These are essential for spotting

birds from far away. Pick up a

pair of Nikon Prostaff 3S 10 x 42

Binoculars ($140, rei.com), to

bring small creatures to eye. Add a

harness ($28, rei.com) so you don’t

have to carry them, BIPOC Birding

Club of Wisconsin co-founder Jeff

Galligan recommends.

Though bright lights are necessary

for navigating dark trails, they can

damage the eyesight of nocturnal

creators if flashed directly at them,

according to Carolyn Byers, director

of education at Madison Audubon.

Still, take extra nighttime precautions

with a 3-in-1 safety light, lantern

and flashlight from L.L. Bean ($15,

llbean.com).

Birders like to use a variety of apps

to make their nighttime treks more

rewarding. The two apps most favored

by birders are eBird and Merlin.

Madison birder Neil Gilbert calls Merlin,

“like Shazam for birds,” where you can

record a bird call and generate an

instant identification. Birders who record

their observations in eBird are citizen

scientists because they contribute to

data used for scientific research and the

conservation of birds. Wisconsinites have

submitted more than one million

checklists to eBird, according to the

state’s Department of Natural Resources.

Also, for safety reasons, a phone is a

must in case of an emergency.

Keep track of field observations the

old-fashioned way, using paper and

pen. For gold standard note taking, try

out Moleksine’s Pocket-Sized Classic

Soft Cover ($16, moleskine.com), and

Muji’s 0.38 Gel Ink Ballpoint Pen, which

will provide enough ink flow for on-thego

notes in cooler temperatures ($1.50,

muji.us).

Stay awake and warm in the dark hours

with a tumbler of hot coffee or tea.

Madison-based JBC Coffee Roasters

offers light to medium roasts in whole

bean or a variety of grinds

($15-20, jbccoffeeroasters.com).

20 CURB

DUSK 21

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