The Great Debate

Well, knock me over with a raptor feather.

You know how the bald eagle is the national bird of the United States? Well guess what? According to The Washington Post, it isn’t. The Post explains:

The confusion stems from the Great Seal of the United States. In 1782, with victory over Great Britain imminent, Congress approved a seal for our new nation with a handsome bald eagle emblazoned at the center. . . Ever since, we’ve conflated the bird’s public perch with an appointed position. Some say its presence on the seal makes it our national bird. But if we follow that reasoning, we could say that the pyramid, which also appears on the seal, is our national edifice.

So, if the position of “national bird” is open, who should be applying? 

Of course, the obvious choice for our country at this moment would be the cuckoo. Its call actually sounds like the word “cuckoo,” so it’s like killing two birds with one – oh, never mind. Its color is greyish-brown – not particularly flashy. It’s a bit of a trickster: females lay their eggs in other birds’ nests, leaving said other birds to raise the young ‘uns. Crafty and sinister. Like a lot of stuff happening ‘round these parts these days. 

Or maybe the parakeet. Running Barb once found a parakeet hopping around in the grass near her house. Yes, she did. A message to the Town listserv did not turn up any rightful owners, so she kept it. Then she learned that parakeets like to have a buddy, so she got him one. They mostly lived in a cage, but when the weather was warm she let them fly around on the screened-in porch. If you have to be a caged bird, a cage the size of a big room can’t feel all that cagey, right?

After a while the Birdy One died. So she had to replace him so Birdie Two would not be lonely. Then Birdy Two died. Then Running Barb could see where all this was going, and she gave everything away to a neighbor. 

Parakeets are pretty, and they sing a happy, chirpy song. We sure could use something like that. 

But my choice would be the American crow. With its shiny black feathers and distinctive “caw caw caw,” it makes itself known far and wide. It chases off anyone (anybird?) who bothers it and it doesn’t take any crap. It knows how to make and use tools. And you don’t have to go searching high and low using an expensive pair of binocs in order to see one. They’re everywhere! You can laze in your backyard drinking a beer, and they will be up in the trees cackling to each other, flying hither and yon, doing important bird stuff, and otherwise enjoying the day. They just seem to get things done.

So, please join me nominating the crow as our nation’s representative. We could do a lot worse!