T.S. Roberts Bird Sanctuary

A few weeks ago Emily and I moved to Minnesota. The home we ended up leasing is half of a duplex, situated a few blocks west of Lake Harriet in a neighborhood known as Linden Hills. Our neighborhood is adorable, with many tree-lined streets (including a satisfying number of the name-sake linden, or basswood, trees), teeming multitudes of children and dogs, and our own little downtown with a few cafes, some eateries, an overpriced hardware store, and a co-op (which will soon move a bit farther away, but still within easy walking distance). But perhaps the greatest amenity around is our proximity to Lake Harriet, less than ten minutes walk to the East, and in particular a 13 acre patch of forest to the north of the lake known as the Thomas Sadler Roberts Bird Sanctuary. I’ve been there now five or so times since moving in, and each time I go I grow fonder of the place.

T.S. Roberts Bird Sanctuary was carved out of Lyndale Park (much of which was donated to the city in 1890 by William King, an important Nineteenth C benefactor of the Minneapolis Parks system who farmed much of the area around Lake Harriet), which wraps around much of the North half of Lake Harriet (the lake itself was also donated by Mr. King). In 1936, at the request of the Minnesota Audubon Society and park superintendent Christian Bossen (whose ashes are scattered along the main path through the sanctuary), it was officially designated a bird sanctuary, and has been kept in a more or less natural condition to this day. The sanctuary is comprised of secondary forest to the North surrounding a few shallow wetlands that perch along the South fringe closer to the lake. North of the sanctuary lies a large cemetery, and there is a broken down barbed wire fence ringing the whole place. The main trail through the sanctuary is strung across the North edge, alongside a ditch which boasts a number of large plains cottonwood trees reaching out into the cemetery. The swampy lowlands support cattail marshes and silver maple groves, and on the slight hills there are a few old oaks--some that clearly predate the sanctuary--along with hordes of sugar maples. In places the maple saplings create dense thickets, and in other places there is few if any undergrowth. The old hydrological connections that must have connected these wetlands to the Lake have long been severed, and most of the understory seems dominated by invasive vegetation. However, there is a burgeoning movement to rid the sanctuary of nonnative invaders and try to restore a semblance of more natural ecological relationships, providing habitat for more native plants and wildlife.

The sanctuary is most captivating, however, not so much for the plants as for the birds. Although this migration season has seemed a bit thin in relation to historical standards, the sanctuary has still paid host to a merry gang of warblers, vireos, flycatchers and hawks making their way down South as the season turns. There is one small hill in particular, where an old Audubon sign has been nearly swallowed up by the tree it was nailed to, that seems to most attract the passerines as they gambol about. There, around mid-morning, the sun strikes the eastern face of the canopy, and a small mixed flock has pretty regularly shown up to hunt through the warming foliage for unlucky invertebrates.

Most of the birds I’ve seen are Nashville warblers--perky little blue and yellow chaps that have the endearing habit of staying close to the ground searching for bugs and thus providing great looks--but there have also been healthy amounts of creeping black-and-white warblers and nervous American redstarts. There have been others, too, such as ovenbirds, a black-throated green warbler, a few Wilson’s warblers, an early yellow-rumped warbler, a number of Tennessee warblers and even some black-throated blue warblers, along with some blue-headed and yellow-throated vireos. Both broad-winged and cooper’s hawks have flushed near the trail, and the local birds, the cardinals, blue-jays, black-capped chickadees, white-breasted nuthatches, and pairs of hairy and downy woodpeckers, normally make a strong showing.

Other animals are here as well. Gray squirrels are common, stuffing their faces with mushrooms and acorns, and chipmunks scurry through the undergrowth. Little mole tunnels frequently criss-cross the path. And there are deer as well. During my first birding visit, I was shepherded along the path by a particularly inquisitive young buck, who followed my every move from an uncomfortable distance of ten yards away.

puffball growing in the swamp

As the season progresses, I’m curious to see how the bird composition will change. Already the warblers are tapering off, and perhaps the thrushes will be there waiting for me during my next visit. Lake Harriet itself has been pretty devoid of waterfowl so far, but I’m hoping that a loon or two might show up there on their way South as the weather turns cold and the lakes up North start icing up. Eventually our lake too will freeze over, but who knows, maybe in winter there will be Northern finches amongst the few pines I’ve noticed along the East edge of the sanctuary. In any respect, it is wonderful to be able to live in a city, with all its conveniences and lively humming of humanity, while still being able to walk about amongst the trees and swamps, and bid the migrants farewell and good luck. May we meet there again this spring.