歪歪漫画

I experienced my first major windstorm that leveled a vast swath of Minnesota鈥檚 northern forest in the summer of 1995.

At the time, I had just begun my summer internship at Itasca State Park as one of three park naturalists hired. The wind event was devastating to the park and where I lived just a dozen miles northeast near the Becida community.

Giant, ancient red pines and white pines everywhere were snapped like matchsticks or completely uprooted and knocked down by the storm.

The event was oft reported as a "100-year storm." I beg to differ after all these years later because since then we鈥檝e experienced several so-called 100-year windstorms here in the Northland (by my count, 1999, 2002, 2012, 2016, and our recent storm, June 21, 2025).

Indeed, I think the meteorological record will show that severe weather patterns occur with greater frequency and intensity nowadays.

This recent event was swift and intense. Bemidji Regional Airport reported gusts at 106 mph. Some measures have the windstorm approaching 120 mph. To put this into perspective, the storm was the equivalent of a Category 3 hurricane and an EF-2 tornado. Trees in its path didn鈥檛 have a chance.

The storm was also commonly referred to as a 鈥渄erecho鈥� windstorm. Until July 2, 2012, I had never heard the term derecho. That was the storm that struck La Salle Lake State Recreation and Scientific and Natural areas about ten miles northeast of Itasca State Park.

A derecho鈥檚 basic meaning is, 鈥�... a line of intense, widespread, and fast-moving windstorms and sometimes thunderstorms that moves across a great distance and is characterized by damaging winds.鈥�

And that it was; in 1995, 2012, and 2025. Trees on my property weren鈥檛 spared, but I consider myself lucky. My house was spared each time.

Suffice to say, inspecting the carnage was depressing. The stifling heat made immediate cleanup taxing, not to mention managing life with a generator for three days rotating between the water pump, fridge, freezer, and a little air conditioning.

Yet, as I surveyed my property and assessed damage, I also couldn鈥檛 help but think about wildlife, especially birds. How do they manage to survive such onslaughts?

Most birds and other wildlife do survive, but many of course don鈥檛, particularly young nestlings that haven鈥檛 fledged. While examining downed trees strewn about on the ground, I found a couple of robin nests that had been knocked down to the forest floor.

If the nest had harbored nestlings, they didn鈥檛 survive.

But just how do birds survive the harshest wind events that Mother Nature unleashes? They do so in a multiple number of ways, and ways that many of us caught in similar circumstances would do, too.

If experiencing a windstorm, some birds will seek natural tree cavities or artificial nest boxes. Birds that spend most of their time on the ground or water, such as ground-nesting birds, shorebirds and wading birds, and waterfowl, will find protection within dense clumps of grass, cattails, and other vegetation.

Shrub-loving species such as gray catbirds and brown thrashers hide in the thick understory growth of shrubs and vegetation to protect themselves from high velocity wind and flying debris.

As well, natural windbreaks are utilized by birds such as dense stands of trees and shrubs and the leeward side of hills, hummocks, cliffs, and boulders; anything, really, that can block wind, birds and other animals will use. Birds will also use human-made structures such as inside or around buildings.

Perching birds that choose the security of trees will perch on branches closest to trunks on the sides most protected from the wind. Their specialized feet and toes help them to tightly grip and hold onto branches as they wait out storms while they also use the leeward side of the tree trunks to block strong wind.

It鈥檚 remarkable, but most birds employing this method of survival manage to survive. It鈥檚 the younger birds, those not fully developed or fledged that sometimes don鈥檛 make it.

As such, when the sun rose on 21 June, despite the severe wind damage everywhere and trees on the ground or haphazardly thrown about or broken halfway up their boles, songbirds throughout the woodlands, wetlands, fields, and forests were singing and vocalizing, nevertheless.

Their perseverance and zest for living was reason enough for me to roll up my sleeves and give thanks for another day, as we get out and enjoy the great outdoors.