A Newfound Perch

By Kasandra Solverson

 

I woke up at seven to catch my ride to Brainerd, Minnesota.  Because it was February and cold, I wore a sweater, but I had been advised not to wear anything I’d want to keep clean.  I grabbed an old bag from my days in Black Friars Swamp, filled it with a notebook, pencil, sketchbook, and warm gloves, and then called Briana.  “You ready?” she asked. I thought for a minute, tired from a long night, and said I would need something to eat on the way. 

            We drove to her house a couple of miles out of town to pick up Baby Re, Dweezel, and the young green-cheek conure with the broken leg.  The Bird Expo started at one, so we scooted out of Bemidji.  Briana French, my friend and local aviary, told me about the three birds in the jeep.  She has about sixteen birds at home, but because she sells birds, that number is always changing.  The young green-cheek conure was attacked by Dweezel, the black-headed caique, only a week or so before.  She drove him an hour away to have surgery on his leg, and he was still recovering, wearing a splint and cast.  Briana wanted to sell him, so she decided not to name him.  I called him “No Name”, and talked to him as Briana sang an old bluegrass song.  “What’s this place called, again?”  I asked her.  She looked at her map through her sunglasses, “Northland Arboretum and Paul Bunyan Conservation Area.  I’ve been there before.” 

Briana goes to a lot of these bird expos to teach both children and adults about the habits, lifestyles, and behaviors of birds.  Because she’s an aviary and loves her birds, she also shows how to take care of them as pet owners.  Sometimes, when someone at the show is interested, she makes a sale on the spot, or at least puts the bird on a list as “Spoken For.”  Briana specializes in Lovebirds, though she has recently expanded to Conures and Caiques. 

Briana let Baby Re, her own Lovebird, out of her cage so she could get some exercise and have a little freedom.  Baby Re, my favorite, is a very tame Lovebird.  On visits to Briana’s house, I’ve noticed how she treats her like any other member of society.  She loves to perch on shoulders, and she takes the chance to use the top of someone’s head as a nest.  Briana likes to bring her to these expos because it demonstrates the behavior of a tame Lovebird, and Baby Re seems to like to travel.

We arrived at the Arboretum and brought the birds inside.  We were happy to see a lot of people there, many of them children.  Briana set up the injured baby in the corner under a heat lamp so it could rest.  She told me that she would need to feed them shortly, because she had fed them almost six hours ago, the amount of time allotted between feedings.  I stood next to Dweezel’s cage and watched as Briana let him out.  He is less tame, and for some reason he owns a strong dislike for me.  This was our first meeting, however, and his dislike for me had not yet developed.  Briana put him on my hand and he perched there while she got the food ready.  I eyed Dweezel from the corner of my eye to be safe, but I didn’t want to look him fully in the face because I didn’t want to scare him, and because I wanted him to focus on the kids approaching me.  Dweezel stiffened up on my hand and then fluffed his feathers as I pet his back.  Briana took him from me and put him on a wooden perch she set up on the table, so I moved to the corner to check on the baby.

Briana fed the young conure liquid formula from a tube because he wasn’t old enough to eat the seeds that the others ate.  I watched as he gulped it down.  Briana brought him out of his cage to show the people at the table what had happened, and described his medical treatment.  She put him on my shoulder, where he stayed for a good half hour or so, and went back to the table with Dweezel. 

Briana’s family arrived with Juliah, the Senegal Parrot she used to own.  Juliah had the tendency to fly around the room and take liberties with everyone in the room.  People were thrilled and surprised at her rambunctious flights, and then at the way she returned quickly to Briana’s voice.  No Name pecked at my earring and caught himself in my hair as the day progressed.  Because he was injured, I was careful when letting others hold or pet him.  He seemed to enjoy the attention.  He also seemed to enjoy my left shoulder, because every time I brought him down to perch on my hand, he maneuvered his way, broken leg and all, up my sweater and back to his newfound favorite place to chill.  I gave in and removed my earring. 

People asked many questions.  I answered what I could, such as names, breeds, genders that I knew, but Briana was the teacher.  She talked about behaviors and food, breeds and histories, information about birds that only an aviary or an extremely interested person would know.  While she talked, she played with Dweezel, called Juliah back down from the rafters, cuddled with Baby Re, and checked on No Name.  I rotated between bird stations, asking questions about the different birds, discovering that my favorites were finches. 

Briana’s family brought us lunch, so we took a break in the foyer of the building.  Briana finished first and went back to the birds, but I stayed behind to watch the kids in the foyer play.  I wrote the following entry as I watched:

 

A girl in the entry squawks and spreads her arms out with a newfound desire to perch on the back of a chair.  The pebbles embedded in a magazine- table distract her, and then she dives from her perch, hiding under a bigger table with two other girls.  An older boy with a football finds them, and they rush whispering into the art gallery.  Another boy approaches the door on his tiptoes, and blows their cover.  He turns to the other boy and steals his beach ball as the girls scatter.  The girl who had been a bird tells something to the other girls, who seem to have become her dutiful posse.  They go back into the bird room together, running aimlessly, like wind, between the adults who stand like trees with their branches held out for the birds.  The little boy with the ball comes back to the foyer, turns to the girls and says, “You have to run after me if you want to get it.”  A boy who speaks the truth—he holds the ball, and the girls accept the challenge.  However, the bird sounds lure them back inside, all except for the bird-girl, the apparent leader.  She stalks one of the teenage supervisors, bent at the waist, and spanks the supervisor with one of her pair of wings.  She is chased back to the bird room.  Some of the girls and boys are trapped in their winter coats, dangled from above by parents.  They are all like birds, and I watch the bird-girl reluctantly fold up her wings and zip up her jacket.  The bird-owners drape towels over the cages and emerge smiling, like kids, into the light.

 

I looked up and saw Briana handing out her last cards to a woman with big glasses.  I went inside to help her carry the cages to the jeep, and to say goodbye to my new acquaintances.  I read slowly from our Native North American textbook as she drove us back to Bemidji, interrupted intermittently by Dweezel’s short but uncompromising squawks.  The sound of my voice annoyed him, and I had to stop reading at times so he could catch his breath.  Recently, I visited Briana and tried to have a friendly reunion with Dweezel, but I must have got my signals crossed—he has never had the intention to like me.  I called him Old Friend, and while Briana showed a bird on the other side of the room, Dweezel pecked at my hand.  I don’t know what caused the grudge, but I’m learning to accept it, with time.

            I enjoyed serving with Briana at the Expo in February, and I look forward to more expeditions, or at least more bird-stories, of which she has collected a marvelous plethora.  As it relates, I wrote this short piece as a Service Learning Article for my Environmental Class at Bemidji State University.  The class instructs students in the ways of environmentally-aware individuals and, in the large scale, an environmentally-friendly community.  This experience with Briana has given me some new light on community involvement in environmental education.  It was refreshing to see so many children, and equally refreshing to see their parents and grandparents. 

The arboretum gave us Bird Checklists for the five hundred acre outdoor conservancy that their program entails, as well as many other flyers about their work and volunteer opportunities.  I recommend looking them up if you’re in the Brainerd/Baxter, Minnesota area, or contacting them for arranged volunteering. 

I’d like to thank The Northland Arboretum and Paul Bunyan Conservation area for hosting the bird expo, Briana’s parents for getting me a vegetarian lunch, and Briana French for opening my mind to the wonderful world of birds.