Column: A flicker of inspiration awaits around the next tree

Much is often made of the term “spark bird,” and for good reason. A person’s spark bird is the species, and oftentimes an individual encounter with a single bird that inspires them to really take notice of the rare beauty and sheer wonder of birds and dedicate some portion of their lives to learning more.

For Roger Tory Peterson, the naturalist, artist and ornithologist whose illustrated book, “A Field Guide to the Birds” (published in 1934), fully enabled the modern practice of birding, the spark bird was a northern flicker he encountered as a boy.

Having happened across the woodpecker that was resting on the bark of a tree, Peterson reached out to touch what he was certain was a dead tuft of feathers, and the flicker sprang to life and flitted away on golden wings. That moment, at the age of 11, dialed the trajectory of Peterson’s life and career — one which in turn gave rise to the avocation of countless millions of birders who have used his field guides to propel their own interest forward.

Interestingly, one of Peterson’s predecessors, Alexander Wilson, the 18th-century Scottish immigrant whose 1808 volume of bird illustrations titled “American Ornithology” served as an inspiration for none other than John James Audubon, named his own spark bird the red-headed woodpecker.

Perhaps it was the easy accessibility and the peculiar nature of the woodpeckers that drew the interest of these icons. I’ve found both the flicker and the red-headed woodpecker to be anything but shy, and their feeding habits bring them repeatedly to the ground, where it’s easy for the earthbound to catch a glimpse.

For the flicker, who favors ants over all other things, the ground is the place to be at mealtime. He’ll dig for his dinner from the soil with a stout, curved bill and snap up beetles and ants with a long and barbed tongue. The red-headed woodpecker, who augments his meals with all sorts of nuts and fruits in addition to a steady diet of in-season insects, spends a great deal of time dashing from ground to tree and back again.

Sadly, for both of these birds, their affinity for the ground can often lead to their demise. I can readily name these two species among the most frequently road-killed songbirds based upon my own observations while riding a bicycle.

Roadway mortality was never an issue for my own spark bird, as the last passenger pigeon was gone from the planet before the “Age of the Automobile” really took hold. You may, of course, be wondering how a bird that became extinct a full 50 years before I was born could act as my own personal spark bird. For that, I can thank my Grandma Lorson.

Her love of both reading and birdwatching led to the same in her youngest grandson. A book in her collection printed in 1907, McGuffey’s Fifth Eclectic Reader, contains an essay by John James Audubon of his own encounter with the “countless multitudes” of passing flocks as he sat on the banks of the Ohio River in 1813. That account set my interest ablaze, and Grandma’s book remains an anchor of my own collection to this day.

If you’ve got a “spark bird” story of your own, share it with me. And if you don’t, keep your eyes peeled and your mind open. Inspiration may be right around the next tree.

If you have comments on this column or questions about the natural world, write The Rail Trail Naturalist, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email jlorson@alonovus.com. You also can follow along on Instagram @railtrailnaturalist.