The Pelican — A Meadowlark Homecoming

By Caron Tayloe

I took the advice from the last NNBA newsletter and went outside to breathe and to admire the natural world. A daily reminder of human destruction, my neighborhood is part of miles of burned bitterbrush and burned sagebrush at the base of Slide Mountain. Determined to have a meaningful and relaxing walk, I hiked to one giant juniper that survived the Davis fire. I noticed this beacon of strength and endurance was thriving in some of the most barren and scarred terrain. Encouraged, my thoughts traveled to hikes of previous years, when I could hear the beloved Western Meadowlark calling out from a rich sagebrush ecosystem near this juniper. I affectionately remembered the birds’ distinct flute-like songs. Over many years of walks I had observed several generations of Meadowlarks dwelling near this tree, but one day their sweet calls disappeared. Nearby development, off-leash dogs, and 4-wheel drive vehicles “recreating” over the sagebrush contributed to the Meadowlarks’ departures. And now, no hope for return, as the area was decimated from another, more catastrophic event.

Sadly reminiscing, I pretended to hear the Meadowlark “flutes” once again. I was

congratulating myself on my vivid auditory imagery when I realized I was actually hearing the real thing! How could such a wonder of nature be in this devastation? It had been years but there was a Western Meadowlark, only 50 feet in front of me off of the trail, perched on a tall, burned bitterbrush, singing so sweetly and clearly. Did the burned area discourage the incursion of people which then allowed the Meadowlark to return? Despite my racing thoughts and feelings of awe, I knew his perfect song was actually an alert, and he was encouraging me to leave. Not wanting to be intrusive, I stopped to hear his call, and gave thanks for the joy that was in my heart. As I walked back the way I came through the burned land, I pondered the elation that comes from watching and hearing birds. Hope can and does exist even in a perceived wasteland.