Sadie's Story (10 page)

Chapter 19

Flock Together

K
estrel

Red-winged blackbird

Cedar waxwing

She'd filled one sheet of notebook paper and part of another, and she was still going.

Ostrich

Emperor penguin

Peacock

(Because birds at the zoo counted, right?)

Sadie was starting her life list. From memory. Of course she couldn't recall all of the details—the dates and sighting conditions and whatnot—so she left those columns blank. It made her list look less than official, but she didn't mind. As Ms. M had said, different birders did things differently.

She was surprised to realize how many species she'd seen. A bunch! More than she'd remembered before she started writing them all down.

When she finished, she turned to a clean page and began listing birds that she really wanted to see.

Birds with goofy names like the bufflehead,
the gadwall, and the northern shoveler.

Birds with beautiful plumage like the snowy egret, the purple gallinule, and the painted bunting.

Birds that gave her the shivers like the black vulture and the common raven and the mute swan.

Birds that sang
potato chip, potato chip
(the American goldfinch) or
how loooong?
(the hooded merganser) or
zoooo-zeeee-zoozoo-zeeee!
(the black-throated green warbler).

In order to find these birds, the field guide said, she'd have to go all over. To weedy fields and brushy deserts and restaurant parking lots. To rocky coasts and wide-open marshland. To the shores of deep lakes.

Jess and Maya had probably paddled
their kayaks right by loons or ruddy ducks and didn't even know it. They'd probably shared the beach with mergansers and herring gulls and maybe even moose birds—Canada jays that use moose as buffet tables, eating fleas and ticks straight off the moose backs. Sadie wanted to tell Jess and Maya about Canada jays. She had a lot she wanted to tell them.

After all, she'd been traveling, too.

Pressing down hard with her pencil, she added one more bird to her wish list—Ethel—just as the doorbell rang.

She opened the door and, poof!

Her friends were there.

“Doesn't it seem like we were gone forever?” Jess asked. The three of them stood
in the hallway untangling from a group hug.

Jess wore a pair of red shorts overalls Sadie had never seen before. Maya had on new sandals, and each of her toenails was painted a different color. Still, their arms around her felt the same as always.

“
Namaste
, girls!” her mother, in cobra pose, called out as they passed the living room on their way to Sadie's bedroom.

“That's yoga language for ‘nice to see you,'” Sadie said.

“Hope you're thirsty for smoothies,” her father called from the kitchen. “My soon-to-be-world-famous Banana Blast-Off with spirulina!”

“The little store by the lake sold smoothies,” Jess told Sadie. “But—”

Maya interrupted her. “The blender was right by the bait box.”

Jess made a face. “Mango Minnow with Mud. Yuck.”

Alone with the door closed, the girls settled themselves on the bed. Jess looked at Maya. Maya looked at Jess. Jess looked away. Finally, Sadie asked, “So you guys had fun?”

A long pause, and then Maya said, “Well, it rained a little.”

“A lot,” Jess admitted.

“Copiously,” Maya said. “The closest we got to swimming was sweating in our bunks.”

“We stayed in the cabin mostly, with the heat turned way up,” Jess explained. “My grandparents are cold all the time.”

“There wasn't even a TV! Just backgammon.” Maya groaned. “You know how many channels backgammon has? One. The Boring Network.” She turned to Jess. “Not that BeMaw and BePaw aren't really nice, it's just . . . you know.”

Jess fiddled with the lace of her high-top sneaker. “We talked a lot about you and what you were doing and how we kind of wished we were back here with you.” Her eyes met Sadie's. “What were you doing?”

Sadie took a deep breath. “It's kind of hard to—”

“Were you bereft?” Maya asked plaintively. “Disconsolate? Crestfallen?”

“What?”

“Did you miss us?” Maya translated.

“Of course!”

“Well then, your souvenirs!” Jess started pulling things from her gray satchel and spreading them out on the bed. “Let's see, a Moose Head Lake pen, Moose Head Lake sunglasses—like we needed those—Moose Head Lake lip gloss that tastes like bark. Don't ask. Moose Head Lake cherry raisin fudge, which I would totally give to your parents if I were you. And this cool feather we found on our nature walk before it started hailing.”

Sadie picked up the feather. It was lovely. Small and shapely. A vivid yellow with just a hint of black at the tips. When she twirled it between her fingers, it seemed to throw off light.

Could it be?

“It's kind of gross,” Jess apologized.

“I swished it around in a puddle to wash off the germs,” Maya said.

“It's not gross,” Sadie said quietly. Then louder, “I love it. I'm looking for a bird with feathers exactly this color. I met this lady the day you guys left. She was really into bird-watching.”

“What lady?” asked Jess. “A friend of your mom's?”

Sadie bounced to the edge of the bed. “Long story.” She stood up. “Want to walk to the park with me? We can look for the bird who lost this feather, and I'll tell you what I did while you were gone.”

As soon as their feet hit the sidewalk, Jess pointed toward a bush in the yard next door. “Okay, nature expert,” she said, as Jess-like as ever. “What are those?” A flock of tiny birds with gray crested heads and white chests were arranged on different branches like football fans on bleachers.

“I don't know.” Sadie reached into her back pocket for the well-worn guide Ms. M had left her. “But I'll find out.”

G
o outside! Whether you are in New Zealand or New Jersey, a park or a parking lot, chances are, birds are there.

Although birders are sometimes called “twitchers,” try to stay still and quiet. Pretend you're a tree. A blue jay might land on you. Or pretend you're a statue. A pigeon might . . . well, maybe not a statue.

There's more to birding than watching. Don't forget to listen. You might hear a chickadee introducing himself—
chicka dee dee dee
—or a pileated woodpecker drumming on a pine.

Everyone enjoys a snack. Set up a feeder in
your backyard or on your apartment balcony and watch customers flock to the Happy Beak Café.

Speaking of snacks, cats do more than watch. It's best to keep kitty indoors.

Field guides are handy, and not just in fields. Who was that dapper orange fellow with the black wings singing outside the window during math class? A good field guide will tell you—after you finish your quiz, dear.

Find a comfortable backpack or satchel to carry gear such as binoculars, notebooks, pencils, and—if you'll be out walking for a while—water and a sack lunch. Unless you prefer writing your field notes in invisible ink, leave the wolfsbane home.

If you're feeling artistic, try drawing
what you see. Sometimes I'm in a hurry and settle for little hints: that sparrow had a ring around its eye; that one had a notch in its tail. Anybody can draw an eye or a tail!

Birding alone is nice. Birding with a friend can be splendid.

A life list is just that—birds I've seen for as long as I've been birding. My life list is like a diary or a journal. I can look back and remember where I was when I saw my first bird, a house finch. I remember his red head and cheerful song. And when he flew, he bounced like a small plane in rough air.

Are you starting a life list? Good for you! What lucky bird will be first?

Have You Seen This Bird?

Female yellow warbler (
Setophaga petechia
). Answers to the name Ethel.

Alert, round black eyes.

Beak like a sharpened pencil.

Dandelion-yellow face and body, darker wings and tail. Male warblers have rust-colored streaks on their chests, but Ethel's
chest should be unstreaked, unless she's been eating barbecued spiders!

Last seen in Milwaukee, but could be anywhere in North America or, in colder months, as far south as Mexico or even Peru.

Likely nesting near marshland in willows, alders, lilacs, or raspberry bushes.

May or may not have a mate (the gentleman with the streaks).

Should be wearing her spectacles, but probably not.

If found, please contact:

Sadie or Ms. M

c/o The playhouse

Sadie's backyard

U.S.A.