An Ode to the Ordinary: or why black-billed magpies are my favorite bird
Kayla Wilcox
Boise, Idaho
National Forest Foundation
This last summer, I was able to do a field research trip to Belize with my graduate program. My professor asked my class a classic icebreaker question: “What’s your favorite animal?” Being biology students, the answers were brilliant and unique, vibrant, exotic species from all corners of the earth, the depths of the ocean, and the shores of the coral reefs we were studying. I felt this pressure to respond with something equally exotic: snow leopard? African wild dog? Manta ray? Whale shark? But the truth of it was, there was only ever one honest answer: the black billed magpie.
I have always had a deep love for the things that make southwest Idaho home: the sagebrush, the mountains, the evergreen forests, and the magpies. These species that we see on a daily basis grow in my esteem with every interaction; the smell of a sagebrush roasting in the summer sun, the way the mountains turn purple as the sun sets, the feel of the pine needles underfoot on my favorite trails, and the call of the magpie as it investigates my backyard again. These things make this place home.
Magpies strike a special chord with me, though. Seemingly reviled, their curiosity, and chaos
seem at odds with their apparent ubiquity. In the shade or from a distance, they appear as fairly ordinary, black and white birds.
But, in the sun...
In the sun, they shine, they glow; their iridescent feathers light up with greens, blues, and
purples. They are striking when given the chance to shine. And their mischief that gives them their bad reputation-- that’s only the workings of a highly intelligent creature, working to survive in an urban ecosystem that wasn’t designed for them. They are adaptable, and determined to thrive.
Magpies also have strong social bonds; training their young, mating for life, and grieving their dead. Their social structure reminds me of our own. These beautiful corvids have made nests by my home, and I have watched them rear their young, fend off hawks, and argue with squirrels -- neither of which should be at that bird feeder. Magpies have been called selfish, dangerous, annoying, boring... but the more I watch them, the more I love them.
We all interact with nature every day. We can look out our windows and see the squirrels
swinging from our bird feeders once again. We walk past the same cottonwood trees. We might hear the calls of the same songbirds, or watch the osprey dive into the river. Maybe we see the same lizards scurry up a rock to sunbathe, or watch a fox’s tail disappear from view around the next bend.
But do we really notice nature?
Do we take the extra moment to sit and observe the way our wild neighbors experience the
changing seasons? Or how they grow and adapt as the years go on? Can we recall the smell of the sagebrush? Or the feel of the river on our feet? Have we given ourselves enough time to witness the glory in the ordinary? We might be teaching it or learning it ourselves, but have we made space to experience our environment?
In this season of “busy”, I encourage us all to take some time to just witness; watch the leaves change, the sun set, the birds migrate, and yes, the magpies play. You might just find that your new favorite was hiding in plain sight, right in your own backyard.
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