It's Chickadee Checkoff Time Again!

As you start to think about maybe getting ready to plan doing your taxes at some point in the near future, keep in mind the Chickadee Checkoff on line 57 of form 1040!

This Chickadee Checkoff provides funding for the Iowa DNR's Wildlife Diversity Program, which helps to improve habitat for non-game wildlife as well as restore species whose populations had been lost from our area like Trumpeter Swans, Osprey, and Prairie Chickens. The program also monitors wildlife populations and creates long-term plans to preserve and maintain them. 

Right now less than half of one percent of Iowa taxpayers--that's only around 7200 people--donate via the Chickadee Checkoff, far fewer than donated when the fund was initially established in the 1980s. Were you one of them? 

The average donation was right around $20.

 

We can do better! Tell your tax preparer (or yourself!) you want to donate a portion of your refund to the Fish/Wildlife Fund. You just enter the amount you want to donate on the appropriate line of your IA-1040 and it will be deducted from your refund. You can donate as little as a dollar. 

 

That's not a lot to ask to help support Iowa's wildlife and healthy ecosystems for future generations, is it?

• Chickadee Checkoff information from the Iowa DNR
• DNR News Release about 2018 Chickadee Checkoff
• Information brochure about the Chickadee Checkoff (PDF) 

 

Previous years' somewhat more eloquent exhortations can be perused here (2017) and here (2019)  

 

Finding Happiness in Community

Eurasian Tree Sparrow

When things feel a little down with the world, or life is getting oppressive, a nice long solitary walk in nature is usually good for what ails. The combination of fresh air, mild exertion, and ever-changing natural scenery offers a refreshing dose of mindful activity to reset the mood and senses.

Sometimes, it takes a little more.

A recent walk was proving ineffective; it was early and a bit chilly, very quiet and overcast. No birds were singing, though geese could be heard complaining in the distance toward the wetlands. The mind kept drifting back to irritants, turning them over and around, examining incessantly in spasms of mental fidgeting. A pair of deer, flushed from the brush nearby, flashed their tails and disappeared, barely a blip on the landscape.

House Sparrows

Then, a cheerful whistle penetrates the mental fog. A pair of starlings, high up in the treetops, sing away in the cold, trying out songs of meadowlarks, peewees, and unrecognizable variants in their repertoire amid the usual clicks and whistles. Why did the singer choose those birds to mimic? Will it give him an edge with the ladies come springtime? It certainly got my attention.

Further, a trio of blue jays hop among the branches. One carries a round...something...in its bill as it silently ascends from branch to branch. Another whines with the standard blue jay cry as it perches overhead. The third grumbles quietly in the shadows, emitting a guttural cwow cwow cwow at a low volume. Their brilliant blue feathers are dulled in the diffuse light.

Nearby, cardinals, male and female, call their loud, sharp chip notes, as their distinctive silhouettes flit among the branches, vivid colors muted from the backlight of the morning sun.

Blue Jay

And then I reach my friends (it is a one-sided friendship, I confess, but they are not harmed by my affection so I persist with admiration from afar), the flocks of Passer sparrows that hang out at the north end of the Greenway. First are the Eurasian Tree Sparrows, with a song somewhat sweeter and softer than that of the rough-edged House Sparrows nearby. Both chirp from the thickets along the trail, with the House Sparrows occasionally swooping into the cattail-filled cell nearby, while the Eurasian Tree Sparrows tend to enjoy hanging out in the big multiflora rose.

Cardinal

I am thankful to the birds for allowing me to eavesdrop on their conversations, and helping lift the funk of the gloomy morning. We are a community, sharing the same space at the same time--and although they may be indifferent to the attention, it means so much more to
me.

A Rewarding Outing

Sculptural Queen Anne's Lace

It was a magical landscape on the Greenway Trail this morning, after yesterday's rainy-icy weather enclosed branches, leaves, and seedheads in a thick casing of glittering ice. You could almost hear each individual blade of grass crunch underfoot, and a slight breeze set off a gentle tinkling sound high overhead. Otherwise, silence.





  


Every step, every glance revealed a new Greenway, far different from the plain, dry brownness that has prevailed since the fall. Tiny seedheads magnified like specimens enclosed in glass, inviting inspection with new eyes.

Common Queen Anne's Lace transformed into artistic sculptures, art both modern and ancient. Delicate panicles of switchgrass transformed into heavy, shining pearls strung on airy stems.

These occasional days of excessive beauty are a pleasant reward for some of the anxieties of winter weather.

Oak leaves, with lingering frozen drops.

Whimsical curves and spirals

Tall Coreopsis

Queen Anne's Lace

Switchgrass, clad in pearly orbs of ice.

Glittering branches in the morning sun.