And, though he shouldn’t have been riding on a not-entirely-frozen-over-lake, the birds are partially at fault.
Corey is a New Yorker who lived most of his life in upstate New York but has lived in Queens since 2008. He's only been birding since 2005 but has garnered a respectable life list by birding whenever he wasn't working as a union representative or spending time with his family. He lives in Forest Hills with Daisy and Desmond Shearwater. His bird photographs have appeared on the Today Show, in Birding, Living Bird Magazine, Bird Watcher's Digest, and many other fine publications. He is also the author of the American Birding Association Field Guide to the Birds of New York.
Ugh. This is why I so detest media headlines and framing. “Birds to blame?” Whenever the media pose a yes-or-no question in a headline, the implicit, subconscious answer that they want to put in the reader’s mind is yes. And the word “blame” is such an emotionally loaded word, I hate to see blame directed toward creatures that are already plenty vulnerable and generally easy targets for people who are predisposed to take matters into their own hands. Why encourage personal responsibility among people who are prone to stupidity when you can simply cast blame on someone or something that won’t be writing an editorial, cancelling a newspaper subscription, or suing for defamation?
To me, saying birds are to blame here is like saying trees are to blame for the downhill skier who gets injured or dies when he plows into one.
Sympathy for the Ravens
I live near a lake which freezes over in winter. Most years the ice get 3-4 feet thick and then locals drive their pickups right out too. In March of most years, the ice begins to show significant mottling with pools of surface water, underneath the flow of incoming water from the springs in the mountains begins to warm also, so the thinning works above and below.
When the first leads open up the Common Goldeneye are never far behind, Canada Geese too. At this stage, one begins to hear the ice moan, then there are days when large cracks can be heard. The geese can maintain a hole only for so long in the face of cold and snow, and spring storms can close them up in one night.
When the ice fisherman return the next day, I wait with my cameras praying that one might drive out and suddenly fall right through. So far I’ve not been blessed.
But I also visualize the bones of the idiots to be picked and cleaned by my friends the Ravens. Some day if the circumstances are right, I will set up a end of life scenario where my bones too could be picked clean by Ravens and Wolverines Then I could join the idiots in a laugh, and my meat will power the croaking love song of an elegant corvid and fly …..
People like this are what the “Darwin Awards” are all about. (Called Darwin Awards because such acts reduce the stupidity in the gene pool).
My favorite Darwin story is about a similar incident. An ice fisherman was intent on showing his buddies how a stick of dynamite thrown out onto the ice could produce lots of fish. Unfortunately his Labrador Retriever was present, and ran out, retrieved the stick (of dynamite) and retired to his favorite resting spot…under the guy’s pickup.