When the Forest Calls (Even in Minus Temperatures) - Feb 20, 2026

After work, I was itching to get outside. It didn’t matter that the temperature was sitting well below zero. My mind had been busy — the kind of busy that fills your head with negative nelly voices. The kind that make everything feel heavier than it really is.

So when that happens… what do I do? Birding. Nature. Outside.

I grabbed my gear and headed to a local urban forest park not far from home. I wasn’t chasing a rare sighting or looking for the perfect shot. I just wanted to immerse myself in the forest.

As I approached the trailhead, the sound hit me immediately. Birdsong. Everywhere. Loud. Energetic. Alive. It felt like the forest was buzzing.

Further along the path, I was greeted by a lively winter gathering.

Black-eyed Juncos hopped along the forest floor, their crisp grey and white feathers popping against the frost.

Did you know?

Black-eyed Juncos are often called “snowbirds”? Their arrival is one of the clearest signs that winter has settled in.

Nearby, chickadees bounced from branch to branch — fearless as always.

These tiny birds have incredible memories and can recognize individual humans, especially those who regularly provide food.

And then I noticed movement on a nearby log. A towhee. Hopping for joy over seeds that had been left behind.

Did you know?

Towhees don’t just hop — they actually “dance” for their dinner? Their signature move is a two-footed backward scratch, where they jump forward and then kick both feet back to uncover hidden seeds. It can look like pure excitement… but it’s actually expert foraging in action!

It wasn’t alone. Sparrows darted in for quick snacks. This one was mid chomp when I snapped a shot. Haha.

A quiet rotation of opportunity. No fighting. No panic. Just shared abundance. All coexisting. Humans could learn from that.

Then I heard it. A soft nasal “yank-yank” call. Red-breasted Nuthatches. A male and a female. Score!

Did you know?

Their call is often compared to the sound of a tiny tin horn? Once you learn it, you hear it everywhere.

Unlike most birds, nuthatches don’t just move up tree trunks they move down head-first, using their strong toes to grip bark.

Male Red-Breasted Nuthatch (see the darker head)

Female Red-Breasted Nuthatch

This unique climbing style allows them to search for insects and seeds in places other birds can’t reach.

They rely heavily on conifer forests like this one. In fact, they often store seeds in bark crevices to survive the winter, tiny survivalists in the cold.

This park is known for birds occasionally feeding from people’s hands a reflection of years of gentle coexistence between humans and wildlife. So I gave it a try. And wouldn’t you know it…A tiny female nuthatch landed on my hand. Then my tripod. Then my lens. Then incredibly my ear.

She moved like a feather with a heartbeat.

The male soon joined in.

Male landing on a friends hand

I had never photographed a nuthatch before. And now I was sharing space with two of them. They were so light in my hand it almost felt unreal like holding a whisper.

Spending time with these little birds felt like a privilege. Moments like this are powerful examples of something we don’t talk about enough: Wildlife and humans can live in harmony.

Both can thrive. If it can happen in this small urban park…Why not elsewhere?

Urban forests don’t just support wildlife, they create connection. And connection builds care.

By the end of my photo session, I was frozen. Cold fingers. Numb toes. Rosy cheeks.

But I walked back to the car with a huge smile on my face. Because sometimes, all it takes is one tiny bird landing on your hand…

To quiet the noise.