By Melissa Fitzpatrick Haylock

“Welcome back!”

I say this under my breath. Writing in this space, I want to believe I am not the only one who occasionally speaks to the birds I see when out for a walk. Please humor me on this. I do try to be discreet. The kind of people who don’t notice birds, well, you never know what they might think if they heard me. More importantly, though, I don’t want to scare the birds off.

This first day of October, I am addressing a small flock of White-crowned sparrows. They are feasting at the toyon bushes at the edge of the Japanese garden at Kenneth Hahn park. They have migrated here from as far away as Alaska. No wonder they are hungry!

People who come to Southern California from more northern climes are fond of saying that we don’t have seasons here. It’s true that we don’t have the spectacular autumn leaves of the northern forests. It’s also true that we enjoy the sunshine in shorts and t-shirts well into October and beyond. Autumn’s arrival is different here, but it does arrive. The evenings grow cooler; the light turns almost imperceptibly toward golden. And to me, more than pumpkin-spiced anything, nothing says Fall like the arrival of the White-crowned sparrows.

We are all living through a difficult, uncertain time. So much of what we had thought we could count on is endangered, or fading, or gone. The news about birds has not been good. Climate change, habitat loss, bird populations in decline. It can all seem pretty bleak at times. But still, the return of the White-crowned sparrows fills my heart with joy. It’s not for nothing that Emily Dickinson called hope “the thing with feathers.”

You can hear the tuneful songs of the White-crowned sparrows from now through spring, when they will fly north again. Such pretty little birds, with such a pretty song. But dainty as they seem, they are tougher than they look. They flew 2,600 miles to get here! According to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s website, a White-crowned sparrow was once tracked flying 300 miles in a single night during migration. What a feat of endurance has led them to their well-deserved toyon berry feast. Listen now for the lilting song of the White-crowned sparrows in your neighborhood, or favorite birding spot. When you hear it, may it fill you with hope, strength and courage for the journey ahead.

Melissa Fitzpatrick is a mom, speech-language pathologist and bird-lover who lives in Culver City. You can find her bird photography on Instagram @melissahaylock