Rolling up on site in the morning, one of the first sounds you are likely to be greeted by (given good weather) is the shrill cry of the many killdeer that gather along the St. Joseph river. Often their ruckus will continue throughout the day and even into the afternoon--becoming a sort of white noise in itself (or, perhaps more accurately: a white, black, and brown noise.)
The river in itself provides a great setting to see many birds. You might stroll over to the water screen, heavy bucket of plow zone in hand, and look over to see a flock of Canadian geese chilling out on the sandbar. I have also seen mallards hanging around, heard the chattering of many a belted kingfisher, and the shriek of a gull. One day we spotted a swan pair with their young cruising out on the water!
Now, you might say, “hey, you’re out there digging. Is there really time to be looking around at birds?” And yes, I have spent plenty of time scraping diligently away, hardly daring to look up too much as the hot afternoon rays beat down upon the earth. But that does not stop one from hearing the birds. And oh my, there are a lot of them. I have already discussed the cry of the killdeer. But there are plenty of other birds that makeup the background noise on site (or foreground noise, if you are a blue jay with plenty to say). On several days I have heard what is either a hairy or downy woodpecker--or both. Funnily, these two woodpeckers look similar to each other, too, though when you see them side-by-side you realize the harry is much larger. Speaking of larger woodpeckers, THE largest woodpecker (the pileated) has also been heard on site. I hope to see one flitting about one day when I am taking a water break!
There have also been the more gentle chips of the northern cardinal. I would not be surprised if some of these chips are those of the rose-breasted grosbeak--the two sound very similar at times. One afternoon, we saw a hawk (probably a redtail) circling over, calling. We have heard hawk calls on other days too but it’s also very likely that some of the noises we have heard are actually imitation calls done by blue jays! Chickadees have also made their presence known, usually earlier in the day.
I hope that maybe one morning there will be a great blue heron along the bank--or maybe an osprey soaring above the water one afternoon. It is interesting to think about what same birds those who resided in the fort may have heard, what species may no longer be in the area or, in some cases--like that of the passenger pigeon--no longer exist. Did the French also get irritated with the call of the clever jays? While our excavations will likely not provide an answer to that question, it is good food for thought while I trowel away.
Abbey Churney






