Birder's Paradise Awaits in Lydick Bog
Published: Friday, May 22, 2026
Tucked away alongside the hustle and bustle of U.S. 20 and not far from U.S. 31 in South Bend is an unlikely phenomenon: a birder's paradise. Surrounded by the steel, concrete and machines of the city is Lydick Bog, a 270-acre nature preserve featuring oodles of flamboyant songbirds within an oasis of wilderness.
Stepping foot on the pathway leading into this oasis is like stepping into the world of birds. Flashes of red, yellow, brown and gray burst from the trees and underbrush as birds take flight and disappear among the cattails and willow groves.
Not five steps into the trail on May 8, I met a birder who found several feathered creatures on his lifer-list, which is a bucket list of hard-to-find birds. He listed different types of warblers, rose-breasted grosbeaks and a pheasant, among other birds.
But the birds weren't the only wonders to be found on the trail. A few steps further and I came up on signs of turtle nesting, although I saw no turtles in nests that morning. Throughout the wetlands were several beautiful plants coming into bloom. Trees were leafing out, the Trillium were reaching their pique bloom, and wild geraniums speckled the landscape on either side of the trails. I also came across some white dogwood trees in their final stages of bloom.
The trail itself began in a parking lot just off U.S. 20. Two paths stretched around the property, meandering through grasslands and over boardwalks, wandering deep into wood-lands and meeting in the middle at a crossroads between the newly developed trail and the classic loop, which leads to two mesmerizing overlooks.
I followed the grasslands side of the loop, which skirted around the outside of the bog, ducked through the woods and back out into a field that spread across several acres. Once crossing the field, the trail dipped into another wooded section, up a hill and rounded a corner.
Now deep in the heart of the land trust, I was surround-ed by songbirds.
Rose-breasted grosbeaks were most prevalent. They hopped from tree to tree, defending their territory from other birds while calling out to one another in song. Within the couple of hours I spent on the hike, I counted eight to 10 of these songbirds. The males were black with white bars on their wings and tail, a white underbelly and the iconic rosy-red triangle spreading across their chest from their throat like a kerchief. The females were brown and sparrow-like, with thick cardinal beaks and those same white bars on their shoulders.
Also along the way, I saw an oriole, but it moved too quickly for me to fully identify it. From the looks of its sunset orange back and underbelly, and the black covering its head and wings, I would say it was a Baltimore oriole, but orchard orioles are also native to Indiana. The oriole gave a few quick flaps of its wings, then tightened up and darted deep into the trees, disappearing into the woods. Within seconds, it was hundreds of yards away and out of sight.
The expanded hiker's path continued onto private land, through more woods and came out in South Bend by the dinosaur museum.
Doubling back to the loop, I came across the first outlook point, which opened to an island of trees surrounded by marsh. Here, too, the grosbeaks darted overhead, hopping between branches and calling out in song. Down below, turtles sunned themselves on logs and waterfowl floated between reeds.
It was here that I met a second bird watcher and the highlight of the day's hike. Having come from the opposite direction, this birder told of an exciting prospect that was just ahead: a young barred owl, perched overhead atop a tall, dead tree. His plumage matched so closely to the bark, he looked like an extension of the trunk, and the only movement was his rounded face as he slowly turned to keep watch from above.
After spending quite some time locking eyes with this young rebel owl, who was out far past his bedtime, I continued on the path toward the board walk, where I encoun-tered what looked to be a marsh wren hiding in the brush.
Nearing the end of the trail, as I followed the boardwalk through the bog, with reeds, wetland brush and other water plants spread out on either side, a burst of northern yellow warblers charged in and out of the young trees, zipping under branches and darting through clusters of leaves. These bright yellow birds have rusty brown bars streaking down their chests and a beautiful song, filled with trills and whistles.
Despite being just steps away from highways and the chaos found within city limits, within the confines of Lydick Bog, hikers and bird watchers are transported into a world of the living art of wildlife, and the sweet and constant song of a birder's paradise.
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