Autumn Kingfishers

Lakes and ponds grow quieter in early autumn as birds begin their southward journeys. Red-winged blackbirds are among the first to leave, and the cattails seem lonely and silent without their raucous calls. Soon the chipping of sparrows disappears, and the melodies of warblers are gone as well. Ducks may pause and stay awhile during their own migrations, but they certainly don't fill the air with song.

And yet, there is one avian voice that continues to demand attention as the summer wears thin. The belted kingfisher's rolling, husky rattle may ripple across the waves well into fall.

Take a cartoonish version of a bluejay and pair it with the attitude of a hawk, and you'll have a kingfisher. They're flashy, fearless, and loud. You may be familiar with the kingfisher's Australian cousin, the laughing kookaburra, whose otherworldly noises are used in movies to evoke a sense of wild, untamed jungles. Belted kingfishers don't sound quite as unhinged, though their calls do resemble a chattering, good-natured guffaw.

Kingfishers, as their name implies, are phenomenal fish-catchers. They're like miniature ospreys, scouting high in the air with crisp and intense vision, then hovering in place as if glued to the sky, and finally dropping in a maniacal plunge. Unlike ospreys which grab with their talons, however, kingfishers plow head-first into the water and spear lunch with their pointed beaks. The reason why is obvious if you get a good look at a perching kingfisher. Their feet are comically small, and barely seem able to support the bird itself, let alone catch a meal.

Kingfishers also use their heads when preparing a nest site. They excavate burrows in sandy banks along waterways, and if the ground is hard, they'll conjure their inner woodpecker and attempt to loosen the soil by flying straight into it, beak-first.

With all their boisterousness, it's surprising that kingfishers are the namesake for something decidedly less active. The Greek word for kingfisher is 'halkyon', which became 'halcyon' in Latin. In English, 'halcyon' is an adjective referring to stillness and quiet. The connection between calmness and kingfishers comes from a myth that kingfishers lay their eggs in floating nests at sea, and the birds magically charm the ocean to remain peaceful during that time.

Sadly, kingfishers do bring quietness to our waters when they finally drift southward for the winter - one of the last birds to leave - taking their calls and their antics with them. When I no longer hear the rattling, happy sound of the kingfisher, I know that winter is truly on its way.