Time to put your feeders up
From the Savannah Morning News
The 2018 Georgia Legislature finished its 40 days of work for the year recently. From all accounts, it ended on a conciliatory note between the Senate and the House, and a few bills met agreement in both houses. As board games go, it was more a game of Chess than Checkers as members navigated the moves necessary to survive the next election.
Part of that may be the looming outside influences of businesses looking to make a new home in Georgia (hello, Amazon) and the unwavering influence of political donors (hello, health care lobby), but more likely it was the election year climate that encouraged pragmatic movement on some issues and quiet dismissals of others.
An early look at the session’s activity shows many bills that enhance or clean up existing statutes addressing a wide variety of concerns. By any scale, these bills were constructive steps. The group’s progress includes adding medical marijuana as a legal treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder, allowing local governments to effectively ban fireworks except on holidays, and fully funding the state’s portion of the kindergarten through grade 12 formulas.
Votes that translate to your household bottom line include a reduction in the state income tax rate to 6 percent and the move to make requests free for credit freezes.
And the plan to expand rural internet through grants and public utilities already in place will bring the world to more than half a million rural Georgia residents. This will allow students to expand their horizons and businesses to grow customers in parts of the state that have, quite simply, been left out of the robust business environment Gov. Nathan Deal and legislators relentlessly champion around the world.
The group also made it possible for domestic violence victims to break leases without having to pay a penalty. It may sound like a small move to make, but for families and individuals trapped in abusive situations because they can’t afford to move, it may be life-renewing.
In any year, the list of legislation to be considered is a tough hand, but miscalculations could’ve ended in a contested mess. Instead, some thorny issues were left on the table unaddressed.
One issue left unresolved was that of “surprise” medical billing, where people who go to an emergency room or other facility end up with massive “out-of-network” charges that weren’t explained at the time. The doctors or specialists or treatments weren’t part of their insurance plan, so patients were charged the full rate with no safety net.
Another failed bill would have taken broader steps to keep guns out of the hands of Georgians with mental illnesses. And another would have banned bump stocks, the firearm add-on that allows rifles to fire more rounds more quickly, essentially turning it into a much more deadly weapon.
In a late disappointing turn, the houses failed to agree on the Hidden Predators Bill that would allow more adult survivors of child sex abuse to file suit and extended the statute of limitations to age 38 from the current 23. And for a limited period of time, it also would have allowed adults of any age to sue the accused molester and any organization that covered it up. The House passed a version, but the Senate stalled on points involving organizations after tough lobbying by the Boy Scouts.
Those hot potatoes will have to wait until legislators feel safer in a non-election year.
After all, playing political cards in an election year legislature is less like a sweet game of Candy Land and more like an anxious round of Exploding Kittens where one misstep will leave an elected official outside on the porch or worse.
Northbound migrants and our resident summer birds have been straggling into the yard for about a week. I can think of no better way to describe their ordeal.
Spring moves across Georgia in waves that crest just a little higher each day. Migrating birds ride these waves north. For us, every morning finds new treasures deposited by the night sky — hummingbirds, thrushes, warblers, buntings. But this is not how spring begins for the birds. This is only how spring appears to us. Spring begins for most birds as a desperate struggle.
They lift off at dusk, clearing the canopy, heading out over the Gulf of Mexico, climbing gradually into a tropical sky. At 2,000 feet, beneath planets and stars, they level off, setting courses along coordinates locked into genetic navigation systems and falling into the cadence of their flight, a series of flaps followed by a folded wing glide. For the next 24 hours this will be the rhythm of their lives.
They are flying machines, these birds, honed by evolution to perfection. Muscle and bone, feathers and fat. Departure weight: less than thirty grams, a weight that could be sent anywhere in the United States for the price of a Forever stamp.
Three or four of the grams are fuel. Each gram is good for 125 to 150 miles flying at peak efficiency — and the birds do fly at peak efficiency. They must.
The closest land is 550 miles away and most of the travelers will fly farther than that — 650 miles at least. Without prevailing southerly tail winds that double a warbler’s 20-22 miles per hour flight speed, birds could not cross the Gulf at all.
At dawn they climb, up to 4,000 feet. Nobody knows why. Maybe the colder temperature helps keep them from overheating. Maybe from almost a mile high they can better measure the distance to their destination. After a night of flying it would be good to see an end to it. I would want this if I were a bird.
They are lighter now after burning most of their fuel. Lighter, though, means slower; and slower prolongs the ordeal.
The fat larded beneath the skin is used first, and was burned last night. The birds become slimmer, leaner, more aerodynamic as they fly. When their subcutaneous deposits are gone, they burn abdominal fat. When this is gone, they use their reserves — the fatty deposits around internal organs.
When their fatty reserves are spent the birds have one last recourse. They burn protein, the very muscles that keep them flying — like a marathon runner when he hits the wall. It is an act of desperation, a muscular meltdown. But the situation is desperate. One way or another, when the engine begins to consume itself, the flight is almost over.
It is the last leg of their journey that is the most dangerous. That’s when the winds can turn against them, northerly, offshore, if a cold front penetrates the Gulf. Instead of a friendly tailwind to see them home, the birds must fight a headwind. And their progress slows to a crawl.
But they have no choice. None at all. They cannot turn back. They are running on empty. They can only go on. Holding at 4,000 feet if they are able. Losing altitude if they must. Below is the Gulf of Mexico that swallows birds whole, and below are falcons, merlins and peregrines, that wait and watch with hungry eyes from shoreline perches.
They have no choice. They must go on. Reach the shore if they can. Reach the trees. The oaks standing above pines. The oaks, just ahead. Almost below. Just ahead. A flutter of wings. A folded wing glide. A few more feet. A few feet, closer to the tall, beckoning oaks standing above the pines. On land. Just ahead. Just below. Home free. The first ruby throated hummingbird for this year came to our feeder this morning. Time to put your feeders up. STANLEY TATE