March 24 Outdoor Column: Little Conservationists

The following column appeared in the Pittsburg Kansas Morning Sun on March 24, 2007:

A couple of weeks ago, the wall calendar indicated it was time for the annual inspection and maintenance of our bluebird nesting box trail at Woods Edge. So, one crisp Sunday afternoon, the boys and I headed out with tools in hand to prepare for the return of the Eastern Bluebirds.

Oldest Son, now 6, is a veteran of these outings and quickly assumed the role of “teacher” to Youngest Son, who just turned 2. The suggestion was made to transport all necessary tools in the miniature battery-powered John Deer Gator their “Mimi” and “Grandpa” wedged down their Christmas stocking.

“Great idea, lead the way,” I said, and off we went.

They worked with me to assemble the necessary equipment on our barn floor: cordless drill, screwdriver, hammer, galvanized screws, nails, three carnivorous plastic dinosaurs, one old shoe, four packages of cheese crackers, one dog leash, a broken plastic pinwheel, and one set of fake keys to the Gator.
The boys delighted in loading all of the aforementioned gear into the dump bed of their vehicle. Oldest Son jumped in the driver’s seat, buckled his seatbelt, and barked an order for Youngest Son to ride shotgun. With a spinning of the molded plastic tires they were off and rolling.

Our first stop was the bluebird box on the split-rail fence that serves as the northern border of Woods Edge. After discovering the box was filled to the brim with Pin Oak tree twigs, Oldest Son speculated that, “Bluebirds aren’t using this box, it must be another kind of bird.” The veteran bluebirder remembered that bluebirds prefer to make their nests from grass, not twigs. Oldest Son does have a good “rememberer.”

We decided to remove the twigs — most likely put there by a wren — and relocate the box to another more suitable location. When we asked Younger Son for his input, he simply pointed and yelled, “over they.” “They” is Younger Son’s word for “there” and his emphatic pointing was aimed at the split-rail fence on the west side of our property. Oldest Son and I agreed and together they helped me remove the screws and load up the box for the move.

After a short commute they came to a screeching halt in front of a suitable fence post, and after a brief power struggle over who would use the cordless drill, it was agreed that each would drive one galvanized screw to ensure a secure attachment while avoiding mortal combat on the west lawn.

As we spent the next hour driving and drilling and loading and unloading to mount the remaining three bluebird boxes, I realized the truth of the old adage of “the body fuels the mind.” In 6- and 2-year old language, we discussed how bluebirds are cavity-nesting birds and naturally prefer to nest in holes in dead trees. We also discussed that humans sometimes give wildlife a helping hand by providing substitute habitat like wooden nesting boxes. Nothing too deep, mind you, just a simple lesson in wildlife ecology from their biologist dad.

The “father of wildlife management,” Aldo Leopold, pioneered the concept of a “land ethic” whereby humans are an integral part of the biotic community rather than competing for a place in that community. I cannot help but think that a simple Sunday afternoon outing to maintain a beloved trail of bluebird boxes is somehow beginning to provide our boys with the tools they will need to develop their own “land ethic” and place in their “community.”