In The Field: Blue Tit

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Photo by Zara John.

The cider orchards of Herefordshire, England, are quiet at 4 a.m. in May. The eastern sky lightens slowly, leaving time for the tawny owl to make a few final calls. Fede, a field biologist from Spain, has been living in the midst of these orchards studying the effect of a pesticide on the bird population. He arrives alone just before dawn, radio transmitter and antenna in hand. He is here to track a Cyanistes caeruleus, or blue tit as they are commonly known. He switches the transmitter on and changes the frequency to the one that matches the blue tit’s range. A quiet beep tells him that the bird is somewhere nearby, but he can get closer.

A few days ago, a team of biologists came to the orchard and trapped this bird in order to attach a small radio using a light backpack system. They slip a thin elastic band around each wing, placing the radio on the back of the bird like a parachute on a skydiver. In a few weeks when the team is done tracking the bird, the radios fall off. While the radio is on the bird will be tracked three times in order to best see what type of habitat it uses the most. Fede turns the antenna in all directions, listening for the loudest beep. He heads down the dark rows of apple trees in search of the bird. The signal is a steady, unchanging beep, which means the bird is still sleeping.

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The blackbirds and robins have already started singing, lilting watery noises coming from the dark shadowed trees. The signal comes from a nest box at the top of the orchard. The bird, a female, is still sleeping inside. As the sun begins to hit the tips of the branches, lighting the pink blossoms, and warming the branches, Fede notices the signal changing: our feisty little protagonist is waking up. She peeks her blue head out of the box and quickly flits up to a branch in the sun to chatter and preen her feathers. Soon she is busy in the nearby branches and hedges surrounding the orchard. She eats some, but soon she begins her frantic trips to the nest box in order to feed her ten chicks. She is wild for their red gapes and eager voices begging for food. Fede tracks her to and from the nest hundreds of times in the day. Sometimes she takes a half an hour or so to feed herself, but she always returns to the endless task of feeding her babies.

A tiny invisible thread connects this silent human with this small bird. He watches from a distance, hidden. Blue tits can be found from Italy to southern Scandinavia, a common and widespread bird. They have been known to attack birds far larger than them. They are cute, but vicious. As Fede watches this small bird in her feeding frenzy, he sees more than just another blue tit: he watches an animal with a deep desire for survival.

The sun begins to set, and the mama bird still makes her endless rounds to and from the nest. Finally, as the air cools and the sun has sunk beneath the hills, she enters the nest box and stays in, as if to fall asleep. But as Fede waits until the last light leaves the sky and the orchard is once again dark, she pops out once more, to speed to the hedges and bring one last juicy load to her babies. She enters the nest and the signal grows steady; she is asleep.

Fede walks back to the car while the moon rises over the orchard. He remembers the mother’s urgency, paying no mind to pesticides used in the area. The effect of the poison is left for the humans to figure out later, ruminating at desks late at night, no time for dinner.

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