Karen Wils photo The eastern phoebe in the apple tree.

Karen Wils photo
The phoebe’s nest above the camp light.

ESCANABA — The phoebe is the official bird of the Wils and Rose families.

Just like the U.S.A. has the eagle and Michigan has the robin, our family has the eastern phoebe as our bird.

The phoebe is not a flashy or well-known bird.

The phoebe is definitely a good family bird, though.

For as many years as I can remember, the phoebe bird built a nest under the eaves of our camp. It was not really springtime until we spotted the phoebe on the apple tree by camp for the first time.

Phoebes spend their winters down south and are one of the first birds to return to the north woods in April. Even before the trees leaf out, the friendly tail bobbing phoebe bird is back in his nesting territory.

Pussy willows, daffodils and the gentle “fee-bee” song of the phoebe means the growing season is about to begin.

As kids playing at camp, the return of the phoebes meant rubber boot season. The river and creeks were high and vernal ponds were everywhere.

Wild violets and trilliums were making their annual appearances.

The happy, little phoebe bird made its nest of mud, moss and grasses on a light bulb just above the camp door. Even though over the years, we put out several wooden nesting platforms on the camp and on the sheds, the phoebe still chose the light bulb.

It was like the bird wanted to be part of the family.

Perched above the door, the phoebe family could keep an eye on the Rose and Wils families.

From the time I was about two years old, my dad would lift me up and hold a mirror over the phoebes nest so that I could count the eggs.

And after we heard faint little chirps, he’d hold up the mirror again so that we could see the fledglings.

Mr. and Mrs. Phoebe were good providers. They worked constantly catching winged insects to feed to their four or five babies. We would watch them dart and swoop to snatch a wasp out of the air. The nice thing about having phoebes around is that they are in the flycatcher family. They eat bugs even wood ticks.

While the birds were busy eating and growing, we were busy grilling hamburgers and brats, trout fishing and taking nature hikes. Summer was in full swing.

There’s nothing more beautiful and peaceful than spending summer days in the shady woods by the rushing river. The phoebes seemed to know this, too.

In about 16 days or so, the young phoebes had sprouted fluffy gray feathers and were ready to leave the nest. Mom and Dad phoebe encouraged the little ones from the apple tree. One by one, they flew the coop.

Most summers, the phoebes would raise two broods of young above the camp door.

I suspect that Mrs. Phoebe could write a column about the crazy Wils’ and Roses just like I wrote about her.

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Karen (Rose) Wils is a lifelong north Escanaba resident. Her folksy columns appear weekly in Lifestyles.