THE CALL CAME JUST minutes after I started back up the highway. Deanna Fleischer, the state wildlife biologist.
“The picture you sent me, that coastal tanager. Where’s it from?”
I explained I was pretty certain it recently inhabited a wetland called Heyder’s Creek near Mansfield. I left out the details leading to that discovery, including the barn, the freezer, and Gloria’s and my suspicions that the birds were being preserved for nefarious purposes.
“That’s a shame. That used to be a big stopover for them. I’ve heard there’s barely any left up there.”
I thought of all the specimens I spied in the freezer.
“So what can you tell me about them?”
“They’re a pretty special bird.”
“Special how?”
She related an abbreviated version of the coastal tanager’s bio. Native to Piauí State on the northeastern coast of Brazil. Treasured for their unique, trilling song and Cleveland Browns–like plumage. Reliant on category III North American wetlands such as Mendon Woods and Heyder’s Creek: after traveling thousands of miles north each spring, the birds needed the refuge these niche environments provided. For whatever reason, coastal tanagers were also more susceptible to changes in their surroundings than other avian species. A combination of modern farming practices that plowed under hedgerows, the increased use of pesticides, and the disappearance of wetlands was causing their numbers to plummet.
I said, “Doesn’t sound good. It may explain—”
“Oh, and wind turbines.”
“What?”
“There’s been quite a few killed flying into turbine blades.”
“In Ohio?”
“Some here. A lot in Illinois.”
I recalled the machine on the ridge above Todd Orick’s parents’ house, blades slowly turning in the late summer breeze. The way it dominated the landscape for miles around. The unhappiness of people over the prospect of more—the impact on tourism in places like Mohican and Richland Counties. And what Todd’s father said. Still wish to hell they’d get rid of it . . . Dangerous, that’s why. Was this the danger he was talking about? To birds?
I told Fleischman what I was thinking.
“There might have been some kills up there, by Mansfield. I can check. But the thing is—”
“Yes?”
“You never told me exactly what your interest in all this is. The bird, and Mendon Woods. What you were doing out there the other morning to begin with. And that guy. I did you a real favor, you know, not calling the police.”
“I know. But the thing is, it’s complicated, and—”
“Sounds like it. But if you’re representing the developer, we’re done talking. I’m on the other side. Plus, you can imagine how I feel about losing that swamp, given the pressure on this bird.”
“I’m not involved in the lawsuit.” It was an off-white lie, but I soldiered on, afraid to lose this opportunity. “I’m interested in coastal tanagers for another reason. My question for you is trying to understand these migration patterns.”
“What reason?” Her voice was tinged with suspicion. Who could blame her?
“I can’t divulge that right now.”
“Then why should I talk to you?”
“You should talk to me because there’s something strange about this lawsuit—”
“I thought you said you weren’t—”
“I’m not. But I know some things that might connect with things I don’t understand. Yet.”
“That’s ridiculous. Either you are or you aren’t involved.”
“I know how it sounds. But just hear me out. This development—do we even know what it is?”
“Not really. Commercially zoned is what they want, but that’s one of the frustrating aspects about it. It’s like this big secret.”
“OK.” That was consistent with what Bonnie found. “And Mendon Woods—what happens to the coastal tanager if the developer wins?”
“I can’t really—”
“I’m not asking you to take a legal position, or even comment on the lawsuit. But professionally speaking. As a biologist. As a”—I struggled for the right phrase, realizing how much hung on the wording—“as an advocate for the bird.”
A long pause. So long I was afraid she disconnected. I slowed to sixty to let traffic move over, trucks headed for the cloverleaf I-76 exit toward Akron.
“It’s not that simple a question.”
“Why not?”
“You said you were familiar with the lawsuit?”
“For the most part.”
“In that case, you know it isn’t really about the wetlands. I mean, it is, of course. But that’s not what the judge is deciding. Judge Porter?”
“That’s right. She’s not?”
“Not directly. The lawsuit is really about the bird. The judge is being asked to rule on the impact of the loss of Mendon Woods on the coastal tanager, and whether one of these drainage ditch replacements is good enough.”
“Is it?”
A derisive laugh. “Not by a long shot. It’s a joke. It’s like trading an old-growth forest for a Christmas tree farm.”
“Isn’t it cut and dried, then? Pave over Mendon Woods and you lose another coastal tanager habitat?”
“Yeah. But she has to keep in mind the domino effect.”
“Meaning?”
“This bird’s disappearing anyway. Ohio’s just a small part of the equation. It’s a problem that reaches all the way back to Brazil. Now there’s a country that knows something about getting rid of natural areas. So the question is whether a swamp in Columbus would make any difference at this point.”
“I see. So what would help her make that decision?”
“A lot of things, starting with the outlook for the bird. If the population is hanging in there, and Mendon Woods is part of a survival strategy, there’s a strong argument for keeping the swamp as is. But if the coastal tanager is essentially extinct in the state, the argument’s going to be, well, what difference would a dinky wetland make at this point?”
I thought about this. “Heyder’s Creek. The other place where they’re known to summer.”
“What about it?”
“If there were still a lot of birds in and around Heyder’s Creek, that’s good for Mendon Woods. For your side.”
“That’s right.”
“But if the bird is also disappearing from there—or maybe gone, even—it helps the Columbus developer.”
“I’m afraid so. Because it means the dominos have fallen. And I’m worried, because of that picture you sent me. If the birds are dying up there, that’s the end.”
“The end?”
“The end of the coastal tanager. No birds in Heyder’s Creek makes it hard not to draw a line through Mendon Woods. And if the judge does that, they’ll be gone from North America—maybe gone for good—in less than five years. But don’t worry.”
“Why not?”
“There’ll still be plenty of websites where you can see a really nice picture of it. Right next to the passenger pigeon and the dodo bird.”