I stared open-mouthed in disbelief at the cat crossing the neighborhood street in front of my new house in Silver Bay, MN (I'll be moving up full time in 2027). Trotting purposefully on long legs, with a body almost three feet long, this was no housecat. "Bobcat!" I exclaimed, eyeing the black tip on their short tail and dark blotches on gray-brown fur. Bobcats are common in Northern Wisconsin where I've been living for the past 15 years, and are often spotted around homes and roads, so that was the most likely identification my startled brain could find.

But as the cat climbed up the pile of dirty snow on the curb and into my neighbor's yard, the size of their huge, furry feet came into full view. That, along with long black ear tufts visible against the white, confirmed their identity: Canada lynx.

Evening grosbeaks are colorful members of the finch family. These bright birds travel widely toward the best food sources in movements known as "irruptions." In 2016, the evening grosbeak was cited as the steepest declining landbird in the continental United States and Canada. Together, networks of scientists and legions of bird-lovers are working to make sure that the Sun isn't setting on evening grosbeaks.

How can you help? If you see grosbeaks, post your photos to iNaturalist or eBird where scientists can use them as data to determine where the birds are and what they are eating. Or if you're lucky enough to see one with a colored band, report it to the USGS Bird Banding Laboratory. Learn about ways to prevent birds from colliding with your windows from the American Bird Conservancy. Keep cats inside. Keep your bird feeders clean and take them down if you notice sick birds. Support the Finch Research Network and other conservation organizations with your donations. Scientists have come together in an Evening Grosbeak Working Group to fill the knowledge gaps across priority areas like diet, causes of death, migratory and population dynamics, habitat, and climate change. Among other things, scientists are outfitting grosbeaks with satellite and radio transmitters and colored leg bands to help track their movements.

As my boots crunched and sunk into the snow, the trees were shedding bits of snow that littered their branches, dispatched by the wind. In my attempts to avoid getting showered by falling snow, I found myself walking among scattered giants. Standing next to the old eastern hemlock, staring up at the towering trunk, I began to feel very small as I imagined what this tree has lived through and the things that they have seen. How many generations of songbirds have nested in their branches, or found food in their cones? How many generations of deer, bears, wolves, and other wildlife have they seen treading beneath their branches? How have they seen us change, and do they like what they see? How have they watched the world change around them, as they stand rooted in place?