The Bluebird Effect: Uncommon Bonds with Common Birds

Almost everything in nature is so much more awe-inspiring than it first appears
– Julie Zickefoose, The Bluebird Effect

I tried to resist beginning to read this book. I knew I would get sucked in, and I had too much to do and other books I needed to review first. But I couldn’t resist. Before I knew it I had read a sizeable portion. But then something happened that I did not expect – I didn’t want to finish it. Not that I wasn’t enjoying it; on the contrary, I didn’t want it to end. I had read 24 chapters, each about a different bird. Now there was only one left. But I could have kept reading, for as much of our avifauna as Mrs. Zickefoose wanted to write about.

But there was something else, too. I didn’t want to finish because I would then have to write this review. How do I do justice to a book like The Bluebird Effect: Uncommon Bonds with Common Birds? What could I say that would adequately convey what I thought about it? It didn’t help that the forward, written by an excellent author in Scott Weidensaul, was a much better review of this book than any that I could write. Or that Corey Finger, in his review on the 10,000 Birds blog, already put into words exactly what I love about Zickefoose’s writing.

So I’m tempted to simply point you to the book itself – Google Books has an extensive preview – as if I were just (digitally) handing you the book and letting it speak for itself. But even though that would be sufficient and you don’t need to read anything I have to say about The Bluebird Effect, I think I still need to write it, if only for me.

The Bluebird Effect is a collection of 25 essays, each about a single bird (one of them deals with two birds). With a few notable exceptions, these are common, backyard birds. The one thing they all have in common is that they have had a profound influence on the author, mostly through close contact afforded her as a licensed bird rehabilitator.

As you can imagine, Zickefoose has some amazing stories. There’s Mr. Troyer, a male bluebird (and the inspiration for the book’s title) that hung around for seven years(!) after a close encounter with a Sharp-shinned Hawk. The author also tells of a time that she successfully enticed a Carolina Wren to come back for a seemingly forgotten fledgling. And, of course, there are some great stories of raising baby Chimney Swifts, hummingbirds, and many others.

These tales are remarkable, touching, and sometimes heartbreaking. But more than anything, they are enlightening. As the author states, “living with a bird close at hand, one can learn things about birds that elude the causal bird watcher, and even the researcher.” Zickefoose has had the enviable opportunity to really know these birds on an individual basis, including their own quirks and, yes, personality. And what she has discovered is astounding. For instance, on multiple occasions and with different species, she has come to the aid of a bird, such as keeping it safe after flying into a window or protecting its nest from a snake. She found that the birds’ behavior around her changed afterward. They were, for lack of a better term (although perhaps truly), trusting of her. It was “clear…that they could distinguish individual people and remember grievances and kindnesses alike”. This caused the author to ask the question, “Could gratitude be part of a bird’s emotional makeup?”

This is one reason why I love Zickefoose’s writing; she doesn’t write about birds with a clinical detachment. It’s intimate, and she doesn’t shun controversial topics like birds’ emotional lives. However, she manages to do this without her writing coming across as anthropomorphic treacle. She doesn’t think about birds as feathered humans, but nor does she treat them as mindless automatons.

But that’s not the only reason I love to read her writing. It seems effortless; it is such a pleasure to read. The only negative thing I can say about it is that some anatomical and ornithological terms, such as vent and cloaca, are used without definition or glossary. In a book for birders, this would not be an issue. But The Bluebird Effect has great appeal to non-birders who probably won’t recognize these terms.

If The Bluebird Effect were only Zickefoose’s words, it would be worth it. But it also contains her sketches and watercolor paintings, and a lot of them. There’s barely a two-page spread without one. They add immeasurably to the charm and beauty of this book. Zickefoose is such a good writer, it’s just not fair that she’s also an incredible artist!

Recommendation

What is everyday business to [birds]…is an amazement to us. So much of what birds do simply to survive reaches into the realm of the unimaginable, and a proper awe for their adaptability and grit finds its place in our hearts.

There are many things about this book to recommend it, not the least of which is that it’s a great read and beautifully illustrated. But for me, its most significant aspect is the compelling demonstration that birds are more than the sum of field marks, more than physiology or behavior to be studied, more even than populations to be saved. The Bluebird Effect: Uncommon Bonds with Common Birds is a book that would appeal to anyone, not just birdwatchers. In fact, I would especially recommend it to non-birders who, after reading it, I daresay will look at birds in an entirely new light.