This one’s for the birds
Friends of the Aviary needs help in preserving this unique Hamilton treasure
My dad was a bird lover. All through my childhood he kept pigeons in a coop in the backyard — fancy white pigeons, black and grey city pigeons and, for a time, a couple of pheasants. Every winter he would care for a baby pigeon he kept in a small box lined with straw under the coffee table in the living room. He called each one Baby, and he lovingly fed them by hand until the spring when he would let them out to fly. They never went far, staying close to my dad whenever he was outside. From time to time, we also had budgies in the house. He patiently taught them to talk: “who’s a pretty baby?” they would say. My dad wasn’t too inventive when it came to naming. When the Baby budgies eventually died, it was a sad day for everyone in the family.
When we were kids, one of my dad’s favourite places to go on a weekend afternoon was Dundurn Castle. He’d take us there to see the birds at the aviary, we’d play on the grounds and my dad would visit with the birds. Years later when I came home to visit from Calgary with my young daughter, we went for an outing to Dundurn Castle and the birds were still there. We were passing a family tradition to the next generation.
Birds were a big part of our lives growing up. Every blue jay, every cardinal that came into the backyard drew an excited cry from my dad for everyone to come see. He would spend hours looking out the back window watching birds. His birds, other birds, any birds. Hawks and owls were sometimes visitors that drew interest and a quick grab for the camera, but they were always too fast on the getaway for a good shot.
Sadly, the birds moved from Dundurn Castle to Churchill Park in Westdale. My dad would go with my mum to visit the birds, but it wasn’t the same as the aviary at Dundurn Castle and, as he fell deeper into his Alzheimer’s and he lost his connection with the birds, we had to close up the coop and free the pigeons.
When I worked at the university, I’d walk to work passing by the aviary at Churchill Park. Sometimes I’d take my lunch there and eat it on one of the benches next to the birds. I’d think of my dad and how much joy he found among birds. I liked to listen to them squawk and talk to each other. It was a grounding experience and I’d return to work refreshed.
The aviary is staffed by volunteers, as it has been since 1992 when Friends of the Aviary was established to take over the care of the birds. The intended purpose of the initial donation of Thomas Gould back in the early 1900s was to bring kids to Dundurn Park. And it did that. For over 70 years. The commitment by volunteers in maintaining and running the aviary is something we can be proud of as a city. I thank them all for their dedication.
After 20 years at the Churchill Park location, the city decided earlier this year to pull whatever support it provided to the aviary and rehouse the birds. Like it could be that simple.
When I heard the news of the aviary’s closing, I just shook my head. This is why we can’t we have nice things. No vision. Why can’t we support fun things for families? Why can’t we offer our citizens something a little out of the ordinary, like some fancy birds? The kind of birds we don’t see in our backyards. The sort of thing people travel to see or take a pause in their journey to go visit. Are we so tight with the public purse that some extra cash can’t be found to fund a new aviary? How about we take some from the police budget? They get lots of money. Maybe we could repurpose the Discovery Centre at the waterfront since no one can make a go of a business there anyway, might as well give it to the birds.
The city has given the birds a reprieve until June 30 for their friends find a new location. In the meantime, Friends of the Aviary has been busy trying to find such a home: 2,500 square feet with kitchen, laundry and washroom facilities.
And they need your help. Check out their website: www.fortheloveofbirds.ca. Contact your councillor and show your support. We can’t let this little gem disappear.