Leaving my office Thursday afternoon, a Great Tit (Talitiainen) called out from the path. It was to be my last bird in Finland (for now, at least) ...
Early Friday morning (Dec 16), I started my 26 hour journey home -- across Europe and the Atlantic Ocean, and back to Newfoundland. Having missed an exciting year in my province, and many rare species, during my Finnish adventure, I was looking forward to birding back on "the rock".
After a long and frustrating day of travel (several weather delays and the loss of my luggage), I arrived home at 4:30am Saturday -- to interesting news. A Ross's Goose had been found in a city lake just 2 km from my apartment -- a first provincial record and an extreme rarity for Atlantic Canada. After squeezing in a few winks of sleep, I nervously set out a few hours later. Fortunately, I found the goose still at the lake, hanging out with the local ducks and allowing amazingly close looks. I also picked up the last remaining Laughing Gull (one of an influx that had been blown in by Hurricane Wilma a month or so ago) and three female Redheads at another pond across town. Three "lifers" within hours of making landfall -- a good start to my return!!
Sunday was the first Christmas Bird Count of the season, and after another early rise, I met up with some friends, grabbed some Tim Horton's coffee (Surprisingly, I missed that in Finland) and headed down the shore towards Cape St. Mary's. While it was a rather mild day for mid-December, the winds were extremely strong, and the hike across the barrens and headlands to Point Lance was a struggle -- gale force winds nearly picking me off my feet and pushing me towards the cliff edge. A true day of coastal Newfoundland birding -- the cliffs rising high above the wild ocean, waves crashing violently against the rocks, blistering winds sweeping across the barrens, and the salt spray coating my binoculars. God, I missed it!!
It was a routine day of birding, with no major rarities. The highlights were a late Orange-crowned Warbler, a lone Rough-legged Hawk playing in the wind, a beautiful group of Harlequin Ducks hiding amongst the flock of Common Eiders, and handful of Snow Buntings and Savannah Sparrows sneaking around on the grassy beach.
And so ends my excursion to Finland. Not sure where my future adventures will take me, but I know I will find my way back there sooner than later. For now, I'm happy to be enjoying the nature of Newfoundland.
It's not Finland -- but it's home, and it's great to be back!!
Wow – It really is hard to believe that 7.5 months have went by so quickly, and my Finnish adventure is drawing to close. For now, at least …
While the main purpose of my trip was academic, I made the best of the opportunity to see this fantastic part of northern Europe and enjoy it spectacular nature and birdlife, as well as its interesting history and culture.
And I have to admit I've fallen in love with Finland -- its people, its traditions, and its language. And, for the most part, I've really felt at home here. Wherever and whenever I've travelled, I have met interesting and friendly people -- and am especially grateful to the many birders who have been generous with their time, energy and advice during my many adventures, from the local people here Kuopio, to those I've met in places like Kuusamo, Liminginlahti and Lapland.
And there will always be the little things, which I know I will miss when I leave … the nightless nights of summer, ruisleipä (dark rye bread), evenings of sauna, the salty sweet taste of salmiakki, and roasting makkara (and, of course, the beautiful Finnish girls – but that goes without saying!!). Salmiakki I can bring with me, but the rest I know I will eventually come back for.
But my heart lies in nature and that, above all else, is what I have fallen in love with and what will draw me back. The amazing solitude of the Finnish forests, the gleaming lakes under a midnight sun, the beautiful voices of night-singers, the crisp air and brilliant snow of winter …
I will miss it. But I’ll be back.
I was recently told about a family of cranes that were still hanging around a nearby town in late November– weeks after the last of their kind should have left Finland, and facing an oncoming winter that I’m sure would spell their doom. It seems that one of the parent birds was injured and unable to fly, and the other two (parent and young) refused to abandon it.
It’s not the first such story I’ve heard, but this one has been playing on my mind for several days now. I have to wonder how concern and caring for a “loved one” can overcome the powerful drive to migrate south to safety. We all too often think of self-preservation as the most basic of all instincts, and the “kill or be killed” and “survival at all costs” as credos throughout the natural world – but maybe compassion is much more basic and instinctual than we realize.
In a world where we are inundated daily with news of war, greed and hatred, I like to think that these are not really the stuff of basic human nature. There might be hope for our species yet … even if I have to look to a family of cranes to find it.