Bird nests often nature's masterpieces
- John Lorson: The Rail Trail Naturalist
- April 28, 2025
- 86
The other night, as I was giving my “Shots Along the Way” presentation to an audience of nature-minded people, we paused for a moment at a slide showing an odd, gray, sack-like object that hung from a tree as if held by a thread. It was the nest of a Baltimore oriole woven entirely out of long, coarse hairs from the tail and mane of a horse.
Truthfully, when I’d first encountered the thing invisibly suspended at about head height over the bike trail by a single 2-foot-long strand of hair, I thought someone was “punking” me with fishing line and a child’s mitten. Turns out it was far more interesting than that.
Late summer I found the nest used up and on its way toward the ground. Since the female oriole is both a master builder and an expert at site selection, it was more likely the branch from which it had hung had failed — the result of a storm or other such calamity — rather than the carefully woven sling that had held the nest in place.
Of the endless mysteries of nature, one of my own favorite riddles is how an oriole can weave such an elaborate structure, having never seen it done.
While I snapped that photo several years ago, the lesson has remained fresh in my mind that a nest can be built out of just about anything. And while the oriole chooses mostly long, fibrous strands of grasses, tree bark, vines and, of course, horse hair, other birds are often much less selective.
A few weeks ago, as I made a quick trip to the shores of Lake Michigan to pick up seedlings for our annual tree sale at Wayne Soil & Water, I stopped to refuel at a highway truck stop. One of those insanely busy, 24-hour-a-day establishments, the place was filled with cars, trucks, road-weary people and blowing trash. I took my dog over to a thin strip of green between the parking lot and the interstate for a quick break and happened upon an entire ecosystem.
The chips and chirps of dozens of English sparrows drew my attention to a small cluster of spruce trees just beyond the concrete. There, I found a 12-foot-tall evergreen chocked full of sparrow nests that clustered around each trunk. Discarded plastic wrappers, paper towels, soda straws and wooden coffee stirrers — each of the nests looked to be the work of a shameless hoarder. I would have loved to dissect one of the nests that had fallen to the ground, but time and sanitary good sense stopped me from scooping up the mess.
The birds themselves appeared to be thriving on a hardy diet of fallen French fries, fumbled hot dog buns and the remains of greasy, prepackaged cheeseburgers that had likely proven to ghastly to finish (heaven forbid anyone take the time to toss this stuff into a trash can).
Some birds are master builders; others are masters of hardscrabble survival. The old saying, “Blossom where you are planted,” comes to mind.
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.