“What’s that bird?” asked a visiting family member usually so in tune with nature that he was typically one to go to for answers, not one from which to hear a question posed. 

Brad went on to describe what he had witnessed on the feeder for a short pause. When it secured an oil sunflower seed from the feeder it flew off to a nearby tree with the intention of dining, but preferred the secluded dining table available on the backside of the ash tree it had flown toward. Several of the descriptive characteristics were “sort-ofs,” as in, sort-of gray, sort-of small, sort-of blue, sort-of fast, “so … what sort of bird is it?” he asked again. “Oh, it had a sort of red belly. Head stripes too.”

Brad, a native Blufftonite, spent most of his life in the south. Was the mystery bird a variety known only in Indiana or the north, and never seen below the Mason-Dixon Line? Stated red-bellied bird varieties of Angelkeep included red-bellied woodpecker, rose-breasted grosbeak, bluebird, robin, and female cardinal all produced a negative response, Brad plenty aware of those varieties.

Brad jumped to his phone for a search. Angelkeep offered an old version of an Audubon Bird Field Guide. Somewhere along the discussion and query of bird identity it was mentioned the bird landed upside-down, head toward the ground.

Ah-ha, and suddenly the proverbial over-the-head lightbulb flickered.

“Nuthatch?” came out verbally more as a question than an exclamation of fact. “We have nuthatches that eat upside-down, are bluish to grayish,” and by that time the small topknot had become a part of the list of characteristics. “Nuthatches have gray or white bellies, not red,” Brad was informed.

It became a case when partial knowledge came forthrightly uttered prior to complete nuthatch knowledge becoming a part of Angelkeep’s brain capacity. Angelkeep learned a lesson that day. Indiana possessed both white-breasted and red-breasted nuthatches. Science included both in the family Sittidae.

The distribution of both the white and red varieties of nuthatch birds covered the greater part of the United States. Indiana was completely covered within their area of living. Whitey-tighty was noted as a year-round inhabitant, with redy-steady around in the long nonbreeding portion. 

Could it be that Angelkeep had been feeding both varieties for over two decades and never noticed a difference? Oops, the answer was obviously an emphatic “yes.” Angelkeep took on the notion nuthatches were white-bellied on females, the gender typically of less color in birds. Alternately, males carried the red-breasted and more “bird manly” colorful look. It could be erroneous to assume common aspects among birds, without individually researching details on specific varieties. It worked for cardinals and finches, but God never put creation in stone.

Angelkeep’s previous lack of comprehension for two visiting varieties of nuthatch could be explained in no way but simple ignorance. Until Brad asked, “What kind of bird is that?” He had a legitimate reason for his identification failure. Florida’s south half had neither type of bird. No white-bellied or red-bellied nuthatches existed at any time in south Florida. Brad worked, lived and thrived in the center of 20 acres of forest near the Everglades. Neither of the two varieties even visited at spring break time.

While learning about the white and red nuthatches, Angelkeep also learned of a brown-headed nuthatch. Angelkeep has never seen one of these. Angelkeep never will see one as they are a southern variety, below that Mason-Dixon Line. Interestingly Brad lived on the extreme southern edge of this nuthatch’s range so he will likely never see one himself, unless traveling between here and there and one flies parallel alongside his airplane.

The “nuthatch” name came from observation of the bird as it would “nuthack” seeds. These birds grabbed a seed and wedged it into a tree bark crack, then pecking or “hacking” them until they broke open the shell allowing the bird to eat the nutmeat. Somewhere along the line a birder altered the “hack” to “hatch” and the name stuck.

Angelkeep’s mind and eyes had been opened to the nuthatch world. Afterward, two varieties were seen nearly every day. It’s as simple as red and white.

Mr. Daugherty is a Wells County resident who, along with his wife Gwen, enjoy their backyard and have named it “Angelkeep.”