From the Stump

John Switzer commentary: Nature has a way of making a permanent imprint on our memories

Most of us who watch the goings-on in the natural world have seen things that have created unforgettable memories.

It could have been seeing your first bald eagle in the wild or catching a huge fish or even seeing a very unusual bird at your backyard feeder.

Some of my memories include a “fallout” of migrating tropical birds — including colorful warblers, Baltimore orioles and scarlet tanagers — along the south shore of Lake Erie in the springtime. A fallout occurs when tropical birds are on every branch of every tree, resting and eating while waiting for a favorable tail wind to continue their migration and fly over the lake.

When that happens along the boardwalk at Magee Marsh, folks stand with their jaws agape, watching the birds that are seemingly unconcerned about their audience and are often just an arm’s length away.

I also remember seeing a fall migration of leopard frogs hopping across the fields on their way to Stage’s Pond, south of Columbus, where they would spend the winter. A frog migration? I didn’t know there was such a thing. You had to watch where you stepped to avoid the hundreds of hopping frogs.

Then there was that day in Shawnee State Forest in Scioto County when I saw my first and only timber rattlesnake in the wild. Believe me, that was a thrill! It was more that

4 feet long, and I got a good picture of it.

The reason I mention all of this is that some of my friends at the store at Rt. 33 and Hayden Run Road where I buy bird seed told me about a glorious pageant they had seen that was put on by Mother Nature. I so wish I had seen it, too.

It was a turkey-vulture migration along the Scioto River that lasted for several hours. I know that turkey vultures are rather ugly when seen close up, but at a distance, the huge birds are very graceful fliers. I can imagine it was almost like an aerial ballet.

Every now and then during their passing, groups of the birds would “kettle.” That’s when they all fly in circles to gain altitude. Then they would glide for long distances. Turkey vultures are masterful gliders, rarely flapping their wings. I imagine that the birds were getting an updraft off the river.

One of the observers told me, “There were hundreds and hundreds of them. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

That memory will last her a lifetime. That’s what sometimes happens while watching nature.

The migration was so massive that others saw it, too, and reported it to the Ohio Division of Wildlife. Several days later, a second, smaller migration of turkey vultures — about 75 to 100 birds — was seen moving along the river.

Retired weather columnist John Switzer writes a Sunday Metro column.