When you grow up with the Navy, you get used to certain things, particularly salty air and the cries of gulls. Things not easily come by during a typical day in central Texas. Thank goodness for the Ring-billed Gulls, then, that come to the lake near our house every winter.
My gull fix is only a short bike ride away, even if I drove the other day.
I ignored the other birds, ignored everything, focused on the mass of white specks floating on the sparkling water.
flash of white
against the blue
plunges into cold
I can watch gulls for hours. I love the way they fly, so graceful. Lazy one minute, and diving for a meal the next.
Watching gulls is watching wind come alive.
wind takes form
substance, shape
a gull streaks across
memory
Cold air riders come to spend another central Texas inland winter, they bob on the surface, cry and take flight.
The wind pushes them around a bit, but it’s all for show.
They are in control.
a cry, a soaring gull
comes up with lunch
i come back for more
I usually go walking around the building at lunch. My classroom has no windows and it’s just good to get out, breathe real air for a few minutes. I try to look for new birds as I go, and I’ll often bring some small binoculars in case something catches my eye. I’ve seen a few life birds this way, but this has been a lucky week.
On Monday, I saw a White-crowned Sparrow. Yesterday, I saw an American Kestrel. Both of those are life birds for me. In addition to those two, I also saw the usual Eastern Meadowlarks, Killdeer, and Mockingbirds.
When I got home, still feeling fortunate, I took a walk down the trail towards the little pond down the street. On the trail, I saw Black-crested Titmice and Carolina Chickadees chirping in the trees. A Ruby-crowned Kinglet darted around in a stand of cedar, and an Orange-crowned Warbler flitted about in an oak. Those last two are relatively new for me so it’s exciting to see them.
I walked to the little footbridge over the creek and watched the birds from there when a flash of something red darted out of a hole in a dead tree towards a stumpy cedar. I waited to see if it would return, but I didn’t see anything. Getting cold in the shade, I decided to get back in the sun and walk down to the pond.
Just before the pond, a pair of Ladder-backed Woodpeckers caught my attention as they drummed some avian beat poetry into a leafless tree. As if only waiting for the woodpeckers’ drumroll, a Great Egret swooped out of the reeds and away up the trail.
Around the pond, I saw a mockingbird, Eastern Phoebe, and a Yellow-rumped Warbler, my third life bird for the week. I had seen the warbler before, but never got a look good enough for an ID until today.
On the pond, Gadwalls, Ring-necked Ducks and a pair of Least Grebes swam patterns into the still water. The number of ducks surprised me. I didn’t count, but I would guess there were between 30-40.
I also saw a mystery sparrow (I think) on top of a tree. The light was as bad as my angle so I quit trying to ID, and with three new birds in two days, I didn’t want to get greedy.
Other than those, the only birds I saw on my walk were vultures, both Turkey and Black, circling endlessly over the pond.
Today, I took my usual lunch walk and saw the kestrel again in the same place at about the same time. Like me, he must a schedule that brings us together around noon. This time I got an even better look, and since I knew what he was, I was able to really watch him without the buzz of “whatbirdisthishwhatbirdisthis?” running through my mind. The knowing enables the seeing.
After work, wondering how well the pond birds keep a schedule and wanting another crack at that mystery sparrow, I went back to the pond. One of the ladder-backs was working the same tree as yesterday, keeping his appointments, obviously. I didn’t see the sparrow, but the rest of the birds from yesterday were there as were a few Northern Shovelers and an American Goldfinch. I got a better look at the Yellow-rumped Warbler, and I saw a fourth new bird, an American Wigeon, preening out on the pond.
This time I took a rough count of the Gadwalls and got 45. Then I just sat down in the cool blue evening and watched while the egret hunted along the far shore, his feathers glowing bright in the fading sun, while ducks swam through the shadows of the trees. Couting and keeping lists of birds in fun and, when entering the data into ebird, scientifically useful, but it’s just the sitting and watching them be birds that’s really magical.
It’s the birdwatching, more than the birding, that makes for the perfect end to a day.
I watched the guy behind the counter make my sandwich. His head bobbed up and down to the rhythm of some obscure punk tune recorded fifteen years ago. It doesn’t matter the year, Thundercloud always just seems like fifteen years earlier.
He glanced up. “Mayo?”
I nodded. “A little.”
He squirted the mayo on the sandwich, wrapped it and said, “Chips and soda?”
“Yeah.”
“Seven fifty, bud.”
I handed him a credit card and watched him ring up the order. He came back holding up the receipt. “You need this?”
“Nope.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re probably not going to have to prove you bought a sandwich,” he said, laughing at his joke as he started to drop the receipt in the trash.
I smiled too, trying to imagine the absurdity of such a situation.
“Unless,” he said, stopping his movement and looking again at the receipt, “you need an alibi.”
I looked from him to the receipt in his hand.
“You never know,” he said offering the receipt.
“Maybe I should take it.”
He nodded as he handed me my sandwich. “I’m just saying. You never know, y’know?”
This was another good weekend of feeder watching. The titmice thought so too, especially since they finally noticed the pinecone feeder.
Black-crested Titmouse on the pinecone feeder
I’ve been trying for a couple of years to attract American Goldfinches to the yard. They’re only here in winter and I’ve seen them along the trail by the creek, but never in the yard. I’ve moved my nyjer feeder from place to place with no luck until this weekend when a lone American Goldfinch graced my yard, though he preferred the regular tube feeder over the nyjer feeder. He showed up on both count days so I’m hoping he’ll tell his friends and come back. Hopefully, I’ll get a picture.
Chipping Sparrow
The Chipping Sparrows showed up in record numbers for the year. I counted 19 at one point. I know that in late March and early April they’ll flock up and I’ll see 60 or 70 at a time in the weeks before they head north, but 19 is more than I expected at this point.
A Northern Mockingbird eyes the suet feeder
The suet feeder continues to be one of the most interesting feeders in terms of what it draws. Last summer it was dominated by Blue Jays and a Golden-fronted Woodpecker, but those don’t seem interested anymore, happily surrendering it to the mocker and the smaller birds.
A Ruby-crowned Kinglet considers the suet feeder
The Orange-crowned Warbler and Ruby-crowned Kinglet also returned, which was expected since I had seen them most days since my last count. The above shot of the kinglet was taken through a dirty window, but I was surprised to have gotten anything considering how jumpy they are.
And, now, the official count for Week 9, which is probably my highest count at least in terms of number of species:
I jogged on the treadmill in front of the big window at the gym, watching cars pull in and out of the lot, people coming and going, little brown parking lot birds flitting from tree to tree.
A sports car pulled up and a middle-aged woman emerged with a cigarette in her mouth. She adjusted her ponytail, fighting the hair that had been sneaking out since she tied it before work that morning. She stared up at the sky for a few minutes taking deep drags on her cigarette like someone about to go underwater, and she watched the smoke swirl away into the trees.
She glared at the gym with a sour look on her face, flicked her butt onto the concrete and marched toward the door, her face a yin yang of determination and premeditated defeat that clearly said, “Here we go again.”
I and the Bird #91 is out on From the Faraway, Nearby, very cool travel/nature/photography site that I intend to start following. Also discovered in this month’s installment of I and the Bird, are some really interesting and compelling sites that will likely become regular reads: Nature Remains, a celebration of the natural world by a gifted writer; the unclassifiable Via Negativa, which is definitely worth a detailed exploration, and Teach me about Birdwatching!!! where I hope to learn more about South American birds.
A few weeks ago, I discovered two really good sites: Flint Hills, Tall Grass and Coyote Crossing. And, let’s face it, blogs with coyote in the name are just cool.
On the evening of the 23rd of December, I heard some hoarse panting in the backyard, but it was just my dogs (ouch!). I went to investigate and found that Joey and Phoebe had fenced this little guy.
An opossum fenced by the dogs
I went back for the camera while he waited to have his picture snapped. He kept waiting there for several hours. I know possums aren’t renowned for their quickness, but this guy was really not in any kind of hurry whatsoever.
Many people are repulsed by possums, but I find them quite interesting and even a little bit cute. It’s hard not to like North America’s only marsupial even if we usually use his nickname instead of the full Opossum that separates him from his Australian kin.
One summer while working at Camp Periwinkle, I was walking back to my cabin in the middle of the night. I had my flashlight off to better admire the stars when I bumped into one of the camp cats.
Or so I thought. (Maybe we humans shouldn’t always be so quick to judge the quickness of other species.)
I bent down to pet the cat, but I was surprised by how coarse its fur was. In an instant, I grew suspicious and flicked on my light to find myself face-to-snout with a possum. He regarded me with indifference as I jumped back and into the air. I’m forever grateful the little guy didn’t bite me as I’ve heard rabies shots are not something one willingly signs up for.
Joey and Phoebe, however, being much more practical, knew last month’s possum as an intruder and had they been able to climb the fence, they might have gotten a nice possum stew for their Christmas dinner. As things stood, though, they received their usual bowls of kibble.
The first Project FeederWatch count for 2009 was a pretty good one. Two new birds entered my count, and both of them are also life birds for me.
The Ruby-crowned Kinglet came by on New Year’s Eve. I had seen him the day before, but couldn’t get a good enough look at him for an ID. He came again on Wednesday. I was sitting on the porch when I noticed him at the suet feeder. They’re tiny birds, but I was close enough to see most of the field marks without binoculars.
I went inside and came back with my Sibley guide and some binocs and was able to study him long enough to ID him. Thus, the Ruby-crowned Kinglet became my last life bird for 2008.
He was good enough to come by the feeders again on both of my count days, but he didn’t bring any friends. He did venture over to the pinecone feeders for some peanut buttered seeds.
On Sunday another new bird showed up at the suet feeder and became my first life bird for 2009: the Orange-crowned Warbler.
At first sight I thought he was the kinglet again, but on closer inspection I saw that he had no wing bars and a yellowish breast. When he turned upside down to get at the suet, I got a good look at his rump, which was bright yellow.
He came back a few times and each time, I was able to use my guide books to narrow him down more and more until I was certain he was in fact an Orange-crowned Warbler, which is one of only a small number of warbler species that winters this far north.
Other than those two, the usual suspects all made an appearance, with the Chipping Sparrows hitting a high count and the House Sparrows still unusually low. Perhaps they’re still leery about the hawk we had last week.
For Christmas our nephew and neice (with some help from their mom, I’m sure) made us some pinecone bird feeders made by using peanut butter to stick birdseed to the pinecone. I hung them from a hanging plant and sure enough, the birds were interested.
The first visitor was a Carolina Wren who seemed to enjoy swinging back and forth on it between bites of seed. A little while later (after the light calmed down and made for better shooting) his smaller cousin, the Bewick’s Wren came by to enjoy some of the peanut buttered seed.
A Bewick's Wren stops by for a snack
I love these kinds of simple homemade gifts. So do the birds.
