THE NATURALIST
Sunny with a Chance of Murmurations
The amazing spectacle of blackbird flocks in eastern North Carolina
Story and Photographs by Todd Pusser
A cold, frosty morning gives way to bright blue skies over rural Tyrell County. Vast agricultural fields, interspersed here and there with patches of dense forest, border the dusty backroad. This region, just west of Lake Phelps, North Carolina’s second largest natural lake, is the winter home to an incredible wildlife spectacle.
The road continues straight as an arrow for miles and miles, providing clear, unobstructed views across freshly plowed fields. Far up ahead, above the edge of an immense soybean field, I spy what looks like a plume of black smoke rising up from the ground high into the Carolina blue sky. As I drive closer, the plume morphs into a pulsating cloud that suddenly splits in half, as if cut by an invisible ax, only to rejoin a few seconds later. The cloud rapidly changes shape again, this time looking like a massive black beachball dancing above the horizon. A few seconds later, it transforms into a thin-waisted hourglass. Then, a tornado-like funnel.
I pull off the shoulder of the road and hop out of the car with a pair of binoculars in hand. The amorphous cloud soon reveals its true identity: an immense flock of blackbirds twisting and turning together in perfectly coordinated movements. Scientists describe such behavior as a murmuration. I describe it as jaw-dropping.
Soon, the flock passes directly overhead. The birds’ high-pitched chirps, combined with the sound of thousands of wings flapping together in unison, is almost deafening. For nearly a full minute, the flock flies by uninterrupted and settles into a row of leafless trees on the opposite side of the road. There, they perch and begin to preen their feathers. The bare branches of the trees look as if they are draped in thousands of black Christmas ornaments.
The pause in the aerial acrobatics allows me the opportunity to examine the flock in more detail. Staring through my binos, I note that the vast majority are red-winged blackbirds, a beautiful species in which the males sport jet-black bodies and bright red shoulder patches that glow like campfire embers under the afternoon sun. Scattered here and there among the blackbirds are hundreds of common grackles and brown-headed cowbirds.
Before long, the birds take off from the trees, cross back over the road and land in the middle of the field, where they begin to forage for an afternoon snack. This is the moment I have been waiting for. I pull out my tripod from the back of the car, and grab my camera and telephoto lens.
More and more birds settle down into the field. Soon the ground looks like it is covered by a living black carpet. Experience has taught me that this many birds together in one place will not go unnoticed for long. Hungry eyes will be watching this all-you-can eat buffet.
As if on cue, the arching flight of a northern harrier appears over an irrigation ditch running along the far side of the field. With rapid wingbeats, the hawk suddenly dives toward the ground, near the edge of the flock. Instantly, thousands and thousands of birds launch simultaneously into the air, arching high above the horizon. A new murmuration has formed.
It rolls across the field like a giant black tidal wave. I marvel how each individual bird can instantly change direction to match its closest neighbor. Essentially, a murmuration acts as a single giant superorganism. Scientists have applied all sorts of fancy logarithms and computer modeling to help explain the mechanics of murmurations. Despite their best efforts, the intricacies of such vast coordinated movements of birds remain something of a mystery.
However, one fact is clear. A whirling mass of blackbirds can easily confuse a predator like the northern harrier. And if by chance a predator is successful in procuring a meal, the odds against one particular bird being the victim, out of tens of thousands, is small. There is safety in numbers.
Murmurations in coastal Carolina are often due to the presence of an aerial predator. Over the years, I have witnessed peregrine falcons, merlins, Cooper’s hawks, sharp-shinned hawks and northern harriers all pursuing the vast flocks of blackbirds. Once, I watched a northern harrier successfully knock a red-winged blackbird to the ground. As it stood over the bird, picking feathers off its breast, a bald eagle suddenly swooped in and chased the harrier away, claiming the blackbird as its own prize.
On this occasion, the northern harrier is less successful. As the murmuration suddenly pivots, the harrier falls behind.
Continuing to careen and pirouette across the sky, the avian ballet moves farther away and disappears across the far side of the field, leaving me standing alone. All that remains are a few feathers scattered here and there on the ground, the only clues left behind by one of nature’s most amazing shows.
