The Los Angeles Cardinal
By Rachelle A. Arslan
From the time I was a teenager, the Northern cardinal has held a special place in my heart. When my family was forced to move from Los Angeles to the mid-west when I was 15, I was heartbroken to leave my home. However, the first time I saw a bright red male Cardinal on a black iron fence against the stark white snow, I felt a sense of hope, renewal and peace. I cannot explain why. It was just a natural, emotional and spiritual response to this unique and beautiful bird in such a desolate, barren setting.
Imagine my excitement years later when I found out that there is a small population of cardinals in Southern California. Introduced in Los Angeles and Hawaii, sightings in California have been reported in Ornithological Literature since 1880.
Of all my years of living in Southern California, I had never been lucky enough to witness one. I would read reports on ebird and once in a while I would hear anecdotes. A male cardinal had been spotted in Bolsa Chica Wetlands. A pair was seen in the Sepulveda Basin. Of course, none of these were confirmed. Plus, these locations weren’t exactly in the neighborhood. I figured winning the lottery would be more viable than finding a cardinal in my backyard.
Last month, however, a neighbor posted a photo online that he had taken of a familiar red bird. He said he saw it that morning in front of his house, adding, “I never saw a bird like this before. What is it? Hope to see more of these!” The bird in the photo was unmistakable. A male Northern cardinal! Another neighbor replied to the post, saying that he’d seen the bird in his yard the same morning. My heart skipped a beat.
I ventured out with my binoculars, scouring the neighborhood, scrutinizing every tree, bush and telephone pole. I saw pigeons and House Finches. I saw a Black Phoebe. I spotted a pair of ravens soaring and tumbling in mid-air. I even saw a Vaux’s swift chasing an insect in flight, but no cardinal. I was disappointed but not surprised. After all, it’s one tiny bird in a huge urban world. Finding it would not be easy.
Now, whenever I leave the house, I am always on the lookout for the Cardinal. It’s not much different than my usual outings. I am always looking up as most birders do, trying to find my avian friends in their natural habitats, attempting to identify new friends I have not yet seen. My Cardinal pursuit will continue as I am not easily dissuaded when it comes to birds. I am hoping one day to see a flit of bright red and hear the cheerful call of the familiar friend who comforted me on that cold day so long ago.