Nashville or Bust: The Bird of the Year Meets the Bluebird Café
Opinion Advocates for ideas and draws conclusions based on the author/producer’s interpretation of facts and data.
By Brian Kluepfel
The state bird of Tennessee is not the Nashville warbler, nor is it the Tennessee warbler. It is the northern mockingbird.
This was among the factoids I garnered whilst attending the American Birding Association’s Bird of the Year reveal party in Music City.
My concept of Nashville is based on Townes van Zandt and George Jones songs, and the 1975 Robert Altman film of the same name; i.e., like me, a bit dated. Nashville, in fact, is now a sprawling megalopolis with traffic rivaling New York City and Atlanta. But it has a system of lovely public parks and that’s where our energy was focused this December weekend.
We began Saturday at a place called Shelby Bottoms, fast against the banks of the historic Cumberland River. A large group of birders appeared – our flock probably comprised at least 30 individuals – and it was a chatty and fun bunch. Birders love to share knowledge, and even if big groups of us may frighten off the wildlife sometimes, it is good to get together and share the experience.
Immediately, in the parking lot, I saw a pileated woodpecker, one of my favorite birds and an auger of good things to come. Soon after, black vultures slowly circled the park. We soon graduated to one of my great birding moments of the year – an amazing red-shouldered hawk flying over the fields and into a nearby tree. Our birding leader, Chris Sloan, was able to get a spotting scope on the raptor, and I marveled at its mottled plumage and striking reddish-brown coloration. Soon, a mockingbird, asserting its state’s rights, harassed the larger raptor into flying off, which afforded us another great view of it in full flight.
After regrouping for lunch, we sped over to the Warner Park Nature Center for a demonstration of the MOTUS software, a satellite system which allows researchers and birders to track avian species as they pass through during migration. This important program allows us to see when a Nashville warbler, for example, has left Tennessee and is now in northern Mexico or on a coffee farm in Colombia.
Our small group tracked a tagged hermit thrush, and after about 30 minutes, found it above a trail. I was proud to be holding the tracking device when we reeled the sighting in, which was actually much like the sensation of getting a fish on the line and ultimately landing it. We were delighted with our high-tech adventure.
Then came the big event: What species would be designated Bird of the Year? Past selections – the tradition began in 2011 – included the pileated woodpecker, burrowing owl and cedar waxwing. What could it possibly be?
Local artist Liz Clayton Fuller was called to the podium, and she proudly revealed the 2023 winner, and her rendition of such: the belted kingfisher! The female of the species actually includes a “belt” around its chest, a rusty orange contrast to the chunky bird’s overall greyish-blue appearance. (The male does not have this belt.)
The kingfisher turns traditional avian dimorphism on its head; most often the male is more attractive and brightly colored. Since Fuller chose to paint the female, her artwork was dubbed “Queenfisher” and all attendees were graced with a print.
After some vinyl spins by some very cool local DJs the Deli Shop Boys (including “Bluebird Wine” by country music legend Emmylou Harris), a metric ton of finger food and a few adult beverages, we reconnoitered back at the hotel to argue about ivory-billed woodpeckers and rest up for Sunday’s outing at Radnor Lake.
It was here that we hoped to see the Bird of the Year, and we were not disappointed. In addition to a kingfisher across the lake, we saw two other former Birds of the Year (cedar waxwings and pileated woodpeckers), great blue herons, bald eagles, purple finches stuffing themselves on sycamore seed clusters, mallards, ruby-crowned kinglets and white-throated sparrows. It was a brisk morning but well worth the two-hour walk.
What I treasure about birding is it’s a friendly, interesting and shared experience. Our large group included folks from seven different U.S. states; ages ranged from 4 to 70. The kids were treated with as much respect as the adults, and in fact, encouraged to join in the discussions. As I stood among the crowd from Indiana, Ohio, Colorado, Georgia and even New York, I thought to myself, maybe birding is the thing that could heal this country of ours. It brings people together.
Much thanks to the American Bird Association’s staff (Nikki, Kelly, John, Nate) in general, and to Katinka Domen in particular, for making sure I had transport everywhere in Nashville and never got abandoned in a cold state park overnight. I’m already wondering what next year’s Bird of the Year might be.
Brian Kluepfel is a correspondent for the Lonely Planet travel publications and Birdwatching Magazine, among others. He lives in Ossining and watches eagles from his deck overlooking the mighty Hudson River. Find him online at birdmanwalking.com.
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