I have roamed a lot of Island habitats, from dunes to bogs and everything in between. In my travels I keep coming across areas that feel just right. There is no logical explanation for the feelings these areas evoke. They all exude health but I struggle to define what that means.

It could be a krummholz system that is dry as a bone but still flourishing with plant life. Or a marsh that seems to house every mosquito that has ever lived but is full of interesting plants and wildlife.

Recently, I came across another of these areas. I was on a birding trip with two friends who took me on a trail that I had never been on before in the Belfast area. To say we bushwhacked would be an understatement. Fiona damage is still evident, as it is in most Island forests. And my best limbo-ing days are far, far behind me.

Fortunately, there were lots of birds to keep us company. We passed through many different habitats, everything from mixed forests to open fields. This diversity provided homes for a wide variety of birds. In an open area of young woods, we came across one of our most attractive songbirds, a Rose-breasted Grosbeak. This migrant has a gorgeous, long song that is like nothing else. Initially, it sounds like an American Robin but quickly you notice that it is much longer and more beautiful.

Males in breeding plumage are richly coloured—jet black back and head, white breast, with a scarlet triangle on their throat. Females look like a larger female Purple Finch. Males and females both have the distinctly large beaks that all grosbeaks have.

We heard a Belted Kingfisher and some Black Ducks along the river, which were not unexpected. But then we heard the very familiar (though seldom heard these days) “Quick, Free Beer!” call of the Olive-sided Flycatcher. The numbers of this aerial insectivore are in decline and the Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada lists it as a Species of Special Concern.

These birds often perch right at the top of a dead tree, catching insects on the wing and then flying back to the same spot. They are dull grey, with a speckled grey breast cut by a white vertical stripe. It is slightly smaller than an American Robin but larger than any warbler.

As we walked into a more heavily wooded area, one of our sharp-eyed trekkers came across a Barred Owl roosting in a hemlock tree. We had great sightings of this lovely bird and it wasn’t bothered by us in the least.

But even more than the owl, it was the habitat that drew me to this area.  Large, old hemlocks running down the slope. A perfect temperature, cool and shady. And I realized that once again I wasin a woodland that felt healthy. Lots of large trees that had been left alone to get old. The Barred Owl keeping watch on the play. A red-tailed hawk soaring overhead. And warblers flitting all over the place—Blackburnians, Yellow-rumps, Ovenbirds, and many more. It was breathtaking!

We have many pockets of older woodlands that prove that this climate can grow lovely trees. We can have diversity, valuable forest products, and quite incredible places where we can relax in the midst of nature. We simply need to ensure that seed sources are in place to help with the healing process and that we can be patient. It is the latter condition that is always the challenge.