On these hot, summer days, many of us prefer to bird during the evening hours when at least a touch of coolness is in the air. Hampered by a dense woodland canopy to which songbirds often retreat, we rely on their songs or calls to zero in on their location.
Unfortunately, in the middle of a Midwestern summer, the annual cicadas are reaching their peak level of activity and their loud chorus drowns out the birdsong, making our avian quarry difficult to locate. Focusing on birds that feed on lawns (robins, grackles) or in the open sky (chimney swifts, common nighthawks), we hope to catch sight of other species as they dart between shrubs and tree lines or race across the darkening landscape.
Frustrated by the cicadas, some of us head in early while others, myself included, grab a lawn chair and cede the evening to our noisy neighbors. After all, their brief adult lives will soon end and, having spent two years underground, they deserve their time in the sun.
