We enjoy eating breakfast out on our deck while listening to our backyard birds’ calls and songs. Cornell University’s Merlin bird identification app is helping us learn who’s who. We’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing most of our year-round residents: Cardinals, Chickadees, Finches, Nuthatches, Woodpeckers, and Wrens to name a few. More than 40 species of birds spend some or all of the year with us at Swiftbrook.

Each May I look forward to hearing the Summer Tanager’s call, which to me sounds like an old-fashioned coffee percolator. This beautiful scarlet bird and his golden mate spend their summers with us, raising their young before heading south in the fall. The clear whistle of the Great-Crested Flycatcher is another seasonal resident whose call we learned this summer. Both the Tanager and Flycatcher are high canopy birds who inhabit our treetops hunting for insects. We rarely see them, but their calls let us know they are here.

Some species are with us for only the briefest of times. Rose-breasted Grosbeaks winter as far south as Peru, then migrate in spring to their northern breeding range. We reliably see a Grosbeak or two in the final days of April or first few days of May. Although these birds are only passing through, I’m gratified that our backyard is a waystation for their journey.
We live on the inland edge of the Atlantic Flyway, one of four major migratory routes identified by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. Most Atlantic Flyway migration occurs closer to the coast, so I was amazed this year to learn that on April 30 and May 2, respectively, 904,400 and 1,585,100 migrating birds flew over Wake County.
Fall migration began August 1 and continues through November. September and October are peak fall migration months. Birdcast reports 341,100 migrators flew over us overnight on August 27. I expect to see those numbers increasing soon. Migration numbers are searchable by location at Birdcast.info. The website uses weather radar to provide data in real time for scientists and to increase public awareness of threats to migrating bird populations.
The simplest way we can help migrating birds is to turn off non-essential lighting from 11 p.m. until 6 a.m. Most birds migrate at night when bright lights can disorient them leading to their deaths. Audubon North Carolina’s “Lights Out North Carolina” website details how communities can help.
Reducing unnecessary outdoor lighting not only protects migrating birds, it’s also critical for the survival of moths, fireflies, and other insects. Maintaining canopy trees and adding other native plants ensures hungry travelers will have food to eat and resting spots. A garden pond, fountain, or birdbaths can fill in as water sources on properties that lack a naturally occurring one.
The sweetgum, tulip poplar, and loblolly pine trees that help sustain our bird population resulted from old-field succession. This natural process is Mother Nature’s way of reclaiming abandoned farmland and returning it to woods. Mid-canopy food sources — hollies, dogwoods, red cedars, and highbush blueberries — established on their own beneath the canopy trees.
Unfortunately, Japanese Honeysuckle and English Ivy were also thriving in our wooded areas when we arrived. Removing them became our priority. Clearing out invasive species made way for herbaceous natives — partridgeberry, running cedar, Christmas ferns, and others — to quickly take their place. I began to feel less like a gardener imposing my will on the property and more like a steward taking care of the land and helping Mother Nature achieve her goals.
We restore the land, and the land restores us.
In her book Braiding Sweetgrass Robin Wall Kimmerer says, “Like other mindful practices, ecological restoration can be viewed as an act of reciprocity in which humans exercise their caregiving responsibility for the ecosystems that sustain them. We restore the land, and the land restores us.”
Daily interaction with the birds and other wildlife who choose to make their home with us more than repays the work we do to support them. Sometimes our wildlife encounters border on the magical. Two years ago my husband was sitting on our deck for the first time after suffering a serious injury. John called me outside where he was pointing to a pair of Red-headed Woodpeckers.

Red-headed Woodpeckers are abundant across North Carolina, but we had never seen one in our 30 years at Swiftbrook. They prefer mature hardwoods such as oaks and hickories to our early succession trees.
John’s childhood home was nestled among oaks and hickories on a large tract of woodland in Alabama. Mature beeches grew on the moister slopes. John’s father loved the woods and sited his house to minimally disturb them. Red-headed Woodpeckers were plentiful on the property. John and I both felt our visiting pair were a message of healing and comfort from his late father.
The Red-headed Woodpeckers stayed with us almost two weeks as John slowly recovered, then they disappeared. Two months later we spotted them through the den windows. That time they lingered three days.
The Woodpeckers may never come back again. But whenever we explore our habitat, we always expect something magical.