For all you regular readers, here is a little change of pace from our 2013 Field Studies Supervisor, Neal Cowan.
Tales From The Field
CSI Bird Patrol
Prologue:
For those of you who do not know me, I’m Neal Cowan and
I’m running our 2013 nest box study, sponsored
by Ameren, Missouri. Instead of a traditional blog, I thought it might be fun
to tell you a little story about some of the mysteries I face, while
embellishing the facts a little. All of the characters and events in the tale
you are about to hear are allegories for birds, as well as some of the things I
have to deal with in the field. It
is a wild world out there, and things don’t always go according to plan. While
we all hope for the best, birds included, many nests will fall victim to
predation before the chicks have time to fledge. This is the story of one such
nest. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed
writing it.
Meet our main character, Beau "Blue" Baird
Chapter 1:
It was a cold spring morning. The kind of morning when you wake up and expect to find yourself
eye-to-eye with a bad day. Beau
Baird glared with bloodshot eye at the clock from under the pillow:
4:32am. Today was going to be just
that--a bad one. He reluctantly
dragged himself out of bed.
“Dear Lord…” he murmured, “I’m coming…don’t get your
panties in a twist.”
The
insistent banging on the hard oak door was hardly an inviting wakeup call.
“You
better be smoking hot, or on fire.”
The
hinges cried and the chain snapped tight as he peered into the poorly lit
hall. He immediately recognized
the petite figure at the doorway and let out an audible sigh as he shut the
door and let loose the chain. The door was opened, but she didn’t come in.
“What
do you want?“
“Why
aren’t you answering your phone?!,” She interrupted.
“Chicka
it’s 4…“
“Get
your pants on Blue, we’ve got a case.” And quicker than you could say coffee,
she had disappeared down the hall.
Caroline
Dea always had too much energy, in Beau’s opinion anyway. Once she got her nose into something
that was it. She was in high gear
to the end. Beau Baird, or Blue,
as she took to calling him, was the polar opposite. For the best he always
figured. She keeps him moving, and he keeps her feet on the ground. He never knew for sure where she picked
up the name “Chicka” though.
He
pulled on a pair of clean white slacks and his red turtleneck, grabbing his
blue trench coat and fedora as he headed out the door. The few minutes it took him to get
dressed and into the car must have felt like an eternity to her. She was already behind the wheel and
looked like she could jump clean out of her skin at the drop of a hat.
“There’s
been a break-in, down on Jay Bird Street.
Four people are missing and the place is a wreck. Corinne Tarin was picked up on the
scene, but…” She was spitting words like a tommy gun spits lead.
“Slow
down Chicka, I haven’t even had my coffee yet. Swing by Dave’s and…”
“Ugh,
when are you going to learn?” She glanced at the styrofoam cup sitting in the
holder next to his left knee as they sped down the road.
Beau
smiled and sighed in relief as he reached for the dark ambrosia.
“So
like I was saying, the neighbors reported a commotion and Corinne was picked up
on the scene…“
“Corinne?
Of the…”
“Yeah,
as in member of the cowbird gang.”
“But
they…“
“Exactly,
that’s what I’m saying: this whole thing smells fishy!” She finished her
sentence as they pulled up on the scene.
With
the sun peeking over the rooftops, but not quite reaching street level, the old
brick house looked like Blue was feeling; like it was waking up to a day it
just didn’t like the feel of.
Blue
and Chicka jumped out of the car and crossed the yellow police tape. The cops had come and gone, leaving
just one patrol car on the corner to keep an eye on things. Of course the officer inside had long
since dozed off.
Once
inside, the true scope of the carnage gave Blue pause. With the yellow tape and broken window,
there was no mistaking that this was a crime scene. Inside it looked more like a hurricane had blown through
than anything a mortal could have done.
Furniture was thrown around.
There was broken glass everywhere.
There were holes in the walls, and even the carpet was torn up.
Chicka
was speechless. This worried Blue
more than anything else.
A
member of the Cowbird Gang was found fleeing the scene when the cops arrived.
Sure they’re a nuisance, destructive and annoying, but vandalism and
kidnapping? This just isn’t there M.O. They like to lay their eggs in other
birds’ nests so to speak, not destroy them.
“You
said there are four people missing?” Beau took a sip from his coffee.
“Yeah,
the father is out of town on business, but the wife and their three children
are unaccounted for.”
“What
was Corinne doing here?” he mumbled as they continued examining the house.
They
wandered from room to room for a few more minutes, neither of them making a
sound. The police, before them, had scoured the place with a fine toothed comb
and found nothing. It was clean… too clean…
“Let’s
get downtown. I want to hear what song our caged bird has to sing about this.”
To
be continued…
Submitted
by Neal Cowan, World Bird Sanctuary Field Studies Coordinator
No comments:
Post a Comment