In Appreciation of Purple Martins



Purple Martin on Saguaro

It's mid June, and at a time when birding can be slower the one exception is the population of Purple Martins visiting our lakes.  Last night it seemed hundreds of these swift and beautiful denizen's of our desert ascended to our largest lake for a drink and possibly catch a meal on the fly.   Kino and I watched as they dipped in rows down to the surface, creating a momentary splash, before lifting themselves up to the skies, their short thick triangular wings glistening against the afternoon desert sun.   A large group flew over our heads, chirping a greeting as I watched in awe at these curious and friendly neighbors. 

The Purple Martin almost seems out of place in our desert, with it's lack of water and absence of the large multi-holed houses which this species depends on for nesting in the eastern states.   In the desert they have found a niche, using cavities in our saguaro cactus for nesting.  Our martins are actually more natural than its eastern cousins, not having to depend on man to provide its nest site.   They arrive in early May and I catch the last few leaving in late September.  During the summer monsoons their piercing chirps can be heard as early as 3 AM as they peruse high in the dark early morning skies.   During this time they also gather in large flocks in the evenings, especially around water.   This does not bode well for any Killdeer around the lakes, as I have seen them chased out by these, otherwise friendly birds.    

I have a special relationship with Purple Martins which started years ago when Kino was younger and still full of energy.   We would walk for a mile in the early evening to another lake on the west side of the neighborhood, then sit on the shore to enjoy the sunset.   A group of about a hundred Purple Martins had a regular roost in one of the cottonwoods, and we would watch as they collected over the lake just before dusk.   Small groups of birds would make passes toward the top of the nearby cottonwood, sometimes stuttering over the leaves before exiting again, chirping loudly as they flew another wide circle around the lake.   This flight activity continued for about a half hour, and with every pass a few more birds would disappear into the foliage while the others continued their flight.  Finally all one hundred birds would be hidden completely in the deep leafy cover, silent and unseen by the most astute searching eyes.   I thought the human residents in the area were so lucky to have such a unique roosting site within sight of their houses.   Even having a Purple Martin roost site in the neighborhood was quite a rarity!

Some months later I was barbecuing in our backyard.   We have a beautiful mesquite which had grown substantially in the past year.   I went inside the house for a few minutes to get the steaks.  As I stepped outside again I heard the familiar chirping calls of Purple Martins, and realized they were coming to roost in our backyard mesquite!  I treasured the moment and will never forget my good fortune from my new found friends. 

I was to receive more gifts of fortune from these brilliant jewels of the air.   While walking one day my ears picked up a difference in their chirping tone.  The fast chatter seemed to indicate agitation.  I looked up to see what caused this change.  My eyes followed a mob of martins harassing a Peregrine Falcon.   I hadn't seen this frantic behavior with our neighborhood hawks.   The next weekend I was at the bank machine when I heard the same agitation.  Looking up, almost out of sight, were four martins harassing a Prairie Falcon, it's dark armpits distinguishing the identification even at such a great height.   "Boy, Purple Martins have a real dislike of falcons," I thought. 

Last summer I was helping my friend Kirk with a survey of an important bird area.  There were a good number of Purple Martins flying around as we started the count of bird species.   As we walked into a dense riparian area my ears nagged my mind out of its unaware state.   The martins were all up, and sounding very agitated.   "Oh my," I started,
"The martins are going nuts.  There's a falcon around, probably Peregrine or Prairie."    I frantically looked up for the source of the agitation the vegetation was thick.   My friend must have thought I was crazy in my panicked state.  I hopped up on a large fallen tree to survey the wash.   There was a telephone pole within view, and a Peregrine Falcon perched right on top.   I showed Kirk, who seemed surprised that I predicted it was a large falcon, rather than implying "raptor."  Beside the fact that Peregrines are a rare sight in the lower elevations in summer.    My experience had taught me that martins may dislike hawks, but they hate falcons!   I admitted to her that I was feeling a bit proud of myself as well, thanks to the gifts of knowledge imparted by my neighborhood friends, the impressive Purple Martin.