Armchair Birding: “Woman, Watching: Louise de Kiriline Lawrence and the Songbirds of Pimisi Bay” by Merilyn Simonds
~ Anne Kilgannon
As the days soften into earlier evenings and the birds prepare for the change of season—the nuthatches at my feeder are diligently intent at stashing all their morsels of suet in every hideaway possible—take time to absorb the scene, the light and colors as green fades into brown and the migrating birds begin to gather and ready themselves for their greatest effort. Become a watcher, mentally recording all that reveals the patterns of life playing out day by night, spelling for us the lives of birds, trees, winter to spring to summer and fall—everything. And read this story of a life with birds, of keen observation and wondering mind captivated by the cycles of migration, courtship, nesting, feeding and launching the next generation so the cycle will continue, endlessly. A book to be read slowly, savored, and interrupted by your own bird watching as Louise’s example takes hold of your own imagination of all that can be seen. The short title neatly captures the core stance of the life the book describes but it’s also a literal guide for the reader: settle in for this remarkable journey. Join in and watch.
This is a biography of an extraordinary life. Louise de Kiriline was born in Sweden, in the late nineteenth century, growing up on a large estate replete with bird life, tutored by her father to name and know them. But she doesn’t remain in that cosseted world of privilege as world shattering events of war and revolution, love and horror spin her away from all she knew, landing her eventually across the Atlantic in Canada. And there she keeps journeying until she finds herself in deeply forested country hard by a bay of blue water lapping a rocky shore. It is a stern and wild world alive with birds. There, she learns to survive and more, to flourish and create a life powered by her hunger to know the birds, to know everything about their lives. She begins to watch and record every detail of their behavior that she observes joined with an avalanche of questions that spur more watching.
It was an exacting pursuit. Louise contrived methods and a kind of kit to outfit her for hours devoted to her chosen mission. She wore drab colored clothes that would allow her to blend into the tangle of bush and rocks, with a kind of seat sown into her jacket so she could rest and stay still for long periods to catch moments of revelation as the birds around her went about their lives. She could nibble on a sandwich as needed without interrupting her witness of nest building or the feeding of hatchlings. She was there no matter the weather or other discomforts. She carved subtle trails through the trees to further penetrate the woods, tied ribbons to trees where nests were hidden to she could monitor the lives tucked away there, and built feeding trays and other inducements to draw birds closer. She learned to band birds and follow their life cycles and track generations through the seasons of migration and return. She kept voluminous notes.
Louise, despite her far-north forest home, was not isolated. Peppered throughout her records of bird behavior were rising questions and ponderings about the meanings suggested by her close observations. She had an ever-expanding correspondence with leading ornithologists and other serious bird experts of her day with whom she could ask her questions and be tutored in the literature and science of bird study. She was lucky to be working at a time when the lines between the professionals and amateurs were not as rigidly drawn as they came to be. It was also a two-way partnership where Louise could share her detailed logs of bird appearances and behaviors, as well as skins of deceased birds she salvaged when discovered for the collections residing in museum drawers. In time, laboratory work began to edge out fieldwork, with emphasis on anatomy and genetics gaining the lead over study of behavior. As so little was known yet about bird populations in Canada in her day, Louise’s contributions of detailed identification of species, courtship and nesting and raising of the young, diet, other behaviors, times of migration, and anything else she could discern were still valued. Her work and how she managed it still make for a fascinating read.
Besides the divide between the credentialed and the self-taught birders, which reared its head with some, a deeper gulf existed between men and women practitioners. Very few women were granted membership in, for instance, the prestigious American Ornithologist’s Union, a premier organization with a journal that was a standard-setting publication for bird studies. The story of how Louise—and other noted women, many of them her friends and supporters—overcame these barriers to have their work accepted and published is an important part of the history of bird study and conservation efforts in both countries.
Louise also wrote about birds for popular audiences, including children, apart from her work for the credentialed few. She communicated her affection and joy as well as her exacting knowledge of particular birds to spur everyone to enjoy the life around them, available to all. She published stories and many magazine pieces for general audiences to reach out and inspire thousands to bring birds and birdlife to everyone, to first delight and then educate and encourage conservation of both species and their chosen habitats. Her biography likewise reaches out to those investigating conservation leaders’ movements, the emergence and growth of avian science and institutions, and, not least, readers who love birds, those who also watch, and after reading this engaging account, will watch with renewed focus and deeper commitment and joy.
