The Rescue of Lost Birds

A friend showed me a photo yesterday, and I could hardly believe my eyes. He had told me a week before about a bird that had been caught in a chimney and rescued. I assumed it was a chimney swift or some other small songbird trying to find a nesting cavity. Sometimes you don't think of the pertinent questions that would set you straight, but the photo said it all.

It took two people to hold this big gray and white bird, all smudged in soot. It must have filled the flue, like a disheveled Santa losing his magic slippery skin in a narrow chimney. The red head with a fluff of feathers streaming behind looked like a Christmas cap.

"You didn't say this was a duck," I exclaimed! It was not just any duck, but a female common merganser, a big diver, a denizen of large rivers and lakes, and nearly the size of a loon. In summer, this merganser will couple off and retire to the upper reaches of large rivers to raise a family, but during the colder months, it can be found on the Connecticut River.

There they congregate at favored fishing spots, usually in small groups, all riding the current and launching their huge body below to pursue and capture the fastest fish. The powerful webs on their feet and the thin, long bill with serrated tooth-like projections, make it a veritable shark in the water, deadly to the fastest, most slippery fish.

Last week the Connecticut River was swollen as never before at this time of year, nearly in spring flood stage. There were fewer mergansers than usual, but still they were there. Both sexes have white underparts, but the males have jet black heads setting off the bright orange bill. The females are dusky gray above with a reddish head.

What was this bird doing in a chimney? Often it nests in large tree cavities, but this was not a likely home to raise a family. There is something about a wild animal in trouble that turns the heart. Some can shrug it off and realize that life in the wild is often ugly and always dangerous. Others go into extreme rescue mode.

This happened recently with an even bigger water bird, the brown pelican of Pequot Pond, who got handouts of fish and the name Pete. When word got out, Pete also got front page news and a prompt rescue.

When the birding community first heard about this pelican, we wondered if it was a common merganser. The merganser often hauls itself onto shores, docks, and ice, standing tall and upright to preen and digest. More than once a quick distant look has fooled an inexperienced observer into thinking that it might be a pelican. Almost everyone has visited Florida, and there the brown pelican is a common sight, panhandling on the piers of southern harbors.

Pete was not a mistake. He was a genuine wayward waif, a young bird that was truly lost and in need of a helping hand. First things first, of course. See the bird and get it on your state life list. Then let the technicians lure it into a barrel with trout and bring it to the vet for a check-up.

The merganser dives from the surface, but the brown pelican dives into ocean waters from the wing, from high above the water. It is a treat to see this performance, as the huge wings fold up and the ponderous bill becomes a mighty broad sword aimed at the depths. A pelican with one eye like Pete cannot see those fish and will be forever dependent on others to survive.

It is only the lost ones that become famous. There is something special about the sojourner, and hospitality is a virtue that has long been prized. The valley's other lost waif, Rufie the hummingbird, is back for her fourth winter season in an artificial tropical oasis. Some may think it is time for her to make her own way in the world, but let her have her full flight. She pays her way as an inspiration to us all.

At one time or another all living things get disabled or lost in some way. Then those who are able, help as they can.