We are in love with the beauty of birds and the freedom of wings. When a group of Southwest white herons takes off from a pond, perfectly timed, it takes our breath away. Birds live everywhere we do, and they also know the secret places that we’ve never seen. They travel alone, in pairs, flocks, and in confounding formations that dazzle the sky. Throughout time, and in many cultures, birds have been part of our art, stories, and music.
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There are numerous species of hummingbirds in the Southwest. We put out feeders because we’re enchanted by them. They’ve been mesmerizing people for centuries and are central to numerous stories and myths. (It’s often believed that they carry messengers to and from the gods.)
The hummingbird was the patron god of Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec capital, bearing fire and water. In many Indigenous American societies, it’s believed that hummingbirds are healers, bringing good luck and happiness. Tribes with Hummingbird Clans include the Pueblo tribes of New Mexico. Hummingbird is also an important clan crest in some Northwest Coast tribes, and a few are carved on totem poles.
A truly inspiring bird in the Southwest is the kestrel, a small, glorious hawk. Look up—they catch the thermals and ride them. She is a symbol of hunting. The poet, Ted Hughes, described this bird as a supernatural hallucination. Somehow, they’re able to hover in one spot, while searching for prey, even though they’re in a stream of air. In literature, the kestrel is a symbol of absolute freedom and rising above the expectations of others.
We are intrigued by owls. In ancient Greece, an owl was the symbol of Athena, goddess of wisdom. (Which is how we ended up creating the cartoon version of a professorial owl, wearing glasses.) In some cultures, including a number of Indigenous American tribes, seeing an owl is a foreshadowing of bad things to come. This belief also runs through many African and Asian cultures. Maybe it’s because owls are aloof—no one thinks they’re playful creatures. And, if you live in the Southwest, you protect your small dog or cat from them.
Then there is the case of buzzards… To most people, buzzards are anything but elegant. Still, they have their place, and they create balance. In Mayan civilization, buzzards were considered to be godlike creatures. Today, when we look up and see them circling, we know an animal has fallen and will soon become a meal. Buzzards are the clean-up crew. One town in the Southwest, next to Bears Ears, celebrates the return of the buzzards every spring, the way that Capistrano celebrates the return of swallows.
The desert cardinal only has red feathers on his chest, but it’s a lovely bird. Folk stories tell us that when we’re feeling blue, a cardinal will suddenly appear to give us advice. Other stories say that when we miss a departed loved one, a cardinal will show up—this means the person is visiting from the other side. All stories around cardinals are positive. They are easy birds to love. Their voices are cheerful and full of hope.
Are we harming wild birds when we put out seeds for them? Absolutely not. Birds and people have had a positive relationship since time began. They’ve lived near our grain storage bins, and our interaction with them has helped increase their range. Lately we’ve been harsh on their environment, so feeding them helps tip the scales.
Wild birds are unbound by laws that we understand. That they can simply take off in flight is a miracle. People dream of flying—birds do it. From the tiniest hummingbird to the most magnificent eagle, the southwest is home to all.
The Southwest is as big and dramatic as the ocean. If you want to see the horizon from one end to the other, highlighted by blazing sunsets, let your Destination Expert know that the American Southwest is calling you!