THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, July 20, 1995 TAG: 9507200383
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: CHARLISE LYLES
LENGTH: Medium: 81 lines
It's really not safe to be in the car with Yvonne Minor-Harvey on certain summer mornings as she heads out to Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge for bird watching.
Let anything with wings soar within view of her Volvo windshield and Minor-Harvey's eyes are off the road and on the bird.
After a deep swerve or two, we are out of the lane of oncoming traffic and back in the right lane, for the moment.
Though fearful, I can't help but be enthralled by Minor-Harvey's gazing affair with the sky's creatures.
At the sight of a certain swallow or cardinal, wonder rushes out of her, unguarded by adult pretenses that a grown woman might ordinarily put on.
``It's addictive. It's a sickness in a way,'' she says as if asking forgiveness. ``You know how some men don't know that they are looking at women. Well, I can't keep my eyes off birds.''
It bugs Minor-Harvey that Congress might eliminate funds that would pay for more land to expand the refuge, her playground.
A native of Philadelphia, Minor-Harvey majored in biology and considered specializing in ornithology, the study of birds.
She moved here 10 years ago via a military marriage and took to Hampton Roads' clean streets, exotic vegetation, forests and wildlife. A natural adventurer, she has sky-dived and scuba dived.
Minor-Harvey's fascination with birds began about two years ago when she noticed the exotic, feathered traffic and vocals in her Chimney Hill back yard in Virginia Beach: mourning doves, blue jays, cardinals.
Now out she goes to Back Bay - even in this heat - equipped with sun hat, binoculars and an orange neon book bag full of Audubon Society field guides and other bird books.
When those binoculars settle on a great blue heron standing still as a stop sign, Minor-Harvey practically chirps. ``There it is. There it is.
``I guess I get so excited about these birds because I don't have anyone to talk to about them. My husband tries to fake interest. Then he'll laugh and say, `What did you see today, a black-throated yellow warbler?' ''
Undaunted by dragonflies that glitter like emeralds, she points to purple martins circling above a birdhouse. The steel-blue swallows with bellicose beaks live a colony lifestyle, she explains.
Smoldering July is not exactly the best time of year to spot rare birds at Back Bay or anywhere else local. But even in the offseason, Minor-Harvey persists.
Just last week, she says, she struck gold: a glimpse, through her binoculars, of a red-breasted merganser.
The green-crested, ducklike bird is known to hang out in saltwater habitats but rarely flies this far south, according to field guides. But Minor-Harvey couldn't ignore those markings.
``There are a million things you have to look for: the eye ring, the eye stripe, the crown, the romp, the belly, the primary and secondary wings, the tail fan.
``There are about 8,700 species of birds,'' Minor-Harvey says. ``Just when I think I know a family, something comes up that shakes my knowledge. I guess that's what I find so exciting.''
Then a graceful white span stroking across the steamy blue sky catches her eye. ``Oh. Oh. There's a Snowy. It's an egret.''
Out on the stark beach hidden behind dunes where lizard-looking things slither and dart about, Minor-Harvey spots a flock of smooth gliding pelicans.
``Pelicans you can identify by their follow-the-leader flight pattern,'' she says, pointing to four birds in formation. ``See, when the leader stops beating his wings, they all stop.''
Skiing on the wind just above a rush of waves, the long-beaked birds seem to put on a show just for her. For a moment or three in silence, we watch them soar and dip, soar and dip.
``That's freedom,'' she says. ``That's freedom.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
BETH BERGMAN/Staff
Yvonne Minor-Harvey ventures regularly into Back Bay National
Wildlife Refuge in search of rare birds.
by CNB