One of my small stones (observational micro poems) is up at a handful of stones: night heron stone. Check it out and read some of the other stones as well.
by James Brush
Category: Birds
My adventures watching, photographing, studying, and writing about birds
Last week, the first day of autumn brought a cold front and rain so it actually felt like fall for a few days. I took a walk down the trail that runs through our neighborhood and was surprised to see that some of the winter residents had started to come back. I didn’t bring my camera since it was raining so no pictures.
I wasn’t expecting to see anything more than the grackles, vultures, jays and doves that I’ve been seeing all summer on these weekly counts down the trail so I was happily surprised by the tapping of woodpeckers. Ladder-backs and Red-bellies are fairly common in the neighborhood during fall and winter, but other than a Downy I saw back in July I hadn’t seen one or heard a woodpecker since early April, but I saw at least 2 Ladder-backs and I think I heard a few more farther down. Welcome back, woodpeckers.
As I approached the pond, I saw one of the Red-shouldered Hawks swoop out over the trail. He had some unfortunate something in his talons. Based on size and color, I suspect it was a dove. I saw him again a little farther along. This time he was sitting in a branch about 30 feet off the trail. He stuck around long enough for me to get a quick look and wish I’d brought the camera since it had stopped raining. This hawk has been teasing me all year and one of these days, I’m going to get a decent picture.
When I got to the pond, I was surprised to see a few ducks. I counted 3 Blue-winged Teal in the reeds on the far side. A few days later, I spotted 6 of them, so the ducks are starting to filter back in from points north. I also spotted 3 Pied-billed Grebes swimming in tight formation a little closer to my side of the pond. I can’t help but wonder if these are the same 3 that spent last winter here. These are the first grebes on the pond since May and the first ducks since early April. Welcome back, waterfowl.
For those who may have forgotten (or for any newcomers), I started a so-called Big Year (really more of a committed small year) back in January to see what birds I could see along the trail within a mile of my house. Here’s the updated list as of last week, the first week of fall:
- Black-bellied Whistling Duck
- Gadwall
- American Wigeon
- Blue-winged Teal
- Northern Shoveler
- Northern Pintail
- Ring-necked Duck
- Pied-billed Grebe
- Great Blue Heron
- Great Egret
- Little Blue Heron
- Green Heron
- Yellow-crowned Night Heron
- Black Vulture
- Turkey Vulture
- Osprey
- Red-shouldered Hawk
- Killdeer
- White-winged Dove
- Mourning Dove
- Black-chinned Hummingbird
- Red-bellied Woodpecker
- Ladder-backed Woodpecker
- Downy Woodpecker
- Eastern Phoebe
- Ash-throated Flycatcher
- Western Kingbird
- Scissor-tailed Flycathcer
- Blue Jay
- American Crow
- Purple Martin
- Barn Swallow
- Carolina Chickadee
- Black-crested Titmouse
- Carolina Wren
- Bewick’s Wren
- Ruby-crowned Kinglet
- Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
- Eastern Bluebird
- American Robin
- Northern Mockingbird
- European Starling
- Orange-crowned Warbler
- Yellow-rumped Warbler
- Black-and-white Warbler
- Common Yellowthroat
- Chipping Sparrow
- Song Sparrow
- Northern Cardinal
- Red-winged Blackbird
- Common Grackle
- Great-tailed Grackle
- House Finch
- Lesser Goldfinch
- American Goldfinch
- House Sparrow
A multitude of hungry words, scribbled on a scrap of paper, begs for just the merest pittance of the greater meaning bestowed by syntax. I stare and hear their cries, but next to hip, husk just looks like flask, for crying out loud. Besides, it’s clearly an empty one at that. The cat suggests that swilling single-malt could be the remedy of meaning that might make these words conform and stand in ordered lines. Then he knocks a bottle off the bar, which is irksome, but not critical. I mean, what good is a cat’s advice on writing anyway? Sure, they’re decent spellers—everyone knows that—but for paragraphs, they don’t have much to offer. He looks at me with something like pity in his green eyes and asks if I’d like to help him lick up a puddle of Oban 14. I shake my head—not now, I’m working. I clean the broken glass and wrestle those words, but like scofflaw dreams on fitful nights where sleep, forgetting its starring role in the late show of my mind, lurks beyond the limelight in the shadows by the curtains, the words just lie there, scattered on paper, plum forgotten and ignored much like the clover extending across the lawn, dotted as it is with the wrappers of some confectioner’s dreams, reduced now to just the faintest sparkle, piquing only the interest of the passing crows who pluck them off the ground, take them back to their nests and read the lists of ingredients to their children warning them away from words they don’t understand and can’t pronounce.
—
This is the result of staring at the word list from Read Write Prompt #92: Word Gems. I think I used them all. Go here to see what others made of the same list.
The other day, I took a short walk down the neighborhood trail, pointing the camera down more than up. It was a gray and humid day that suggested rain but none ever really fell in our neighborhood. Even if it had, the drought would still be way ahead.
I really like this little bridge that connects two neighborhoods with the main trail. I’ve gotten a few nice shots looking downstream from it and sometimes I even see a few snakes hanging out nearby.
I probably should learn to ID some of the wildflowers around here. Until I do, though, they’re just going to have to be pretty white flowers. Whatever they are, they jumped out of the surrounding dry green like sparks.
There used to be a really nice log like this farther down the trail, but it’s gone now. Probably in someone’s house or on their porch. I hope this one goes unnoticed a little longer.
As dry as it’s been, you’d think the cacti would be loving it, but the prickly pears are suffering as much as everyone else. I saw more dried up and dead ones than usual.
A further reminder to learn the names of some flowers.
Somewhere in the archives of the City of Austin, there is probably a notation that could point some bureaucrat straight to this tree. I think the trees with numbers are the good ones.
I keep seeing this single bone in a clearing and finally took a picture of it. A mile farther down, I found a deer skeleton last spring. I wonder if this is part of the same.
There weren’t many birds out other than the Turkey Vultures, which I enjoy watching as they sail overhead.
Two of my poems went live today at two different literary sites. Check them out and explore the sites while there. There’s lots of good stuff to read.
“An Economy of Language” which is part of qarrtsiluni’s economy issue. You can even hear me read it if you’re so inclined.
Untitled grackle stone, a small stone over at a handful of stones. This is part of my vultures & grackles series.
Another of my vulture poems has flown into the world. Check out “Good Authority,” which was published at Bolts of Silk last week while I was out of town.
Two of my poems and a short prose piece were published yesterday over at Thirteen Myna Birds: “God Hates Grackles,” “Lines Discovered in an Aging Ornithologist’s Field Journal,” and “Circling Vultures.” They are part of a series I’ve been working on about vultures and grackles called Birds Nobody Loves.
Poems don’t stay around long at Thirteen Myna Birds so check them out before they fly off into the ether. Be sure to look around and check out the other pieces in the current flight formation while you’re there as well.
In case you missed it, another poem from this series was published at Bolts of Silk last month (“My Tourist Yard“) and another, “Good Authority,” will appear there later this year.
Last week, after visiting Orange, we went to Galveston. We decided to take Highway 87 along Boliver Peninsula and see what was left after Hurricane Ike and then ride the Ferry over to Galveston. R and I have both spent a fair amount of time on Boliver over the years so it was shocking to see how much of it was gone. I’m not talking just houses destroyed but land that’s just not there anymore.
We watched the map on the car’s navigation showing roads leading off to the left, toward the sea, but those roads aren’t there any more. Just the gulf, much closer to the highway than I remember it being. Out on the water, we could see posts that once supported houses, now supporting pelicans.
Closer to Crystal Beach, there was much rebuilding going on. Despite the rebuilding effort, the ferries were running at reduced service so it took over an hour to get on, but when we did we were rewarded with the usual avian accompaniment, though we didn’t see any porpoises this time.
Among the laughing gulls, one bird stood out, but it was moving too fast for an ID. I snapped a bunch of pictures and when I got home I was able to ID him from this shot: Sandwich Tern. A lifer for me.
And, because I love gulls, the squabble of laughing gulls one always finds chasing the ferry. Check out the dispute in the last one.
Last week we went down to Orange to visit R’s parents. While there we visited the heronry at Shangri La Botanical Gardens and Nature Center, which recently reopened after recovering from Hurricane Ike. It was ridiculously hot so we didn’t spend much time at the gardens. Instead, we headed for the heronry which has a beautiful bird blind built over the water right in the middle of the trees, which are full of nests.
We didn’t actually see any herons, but there were hundreds of Great Egrets, Double-crested Cormorants, Cattle Egrets and Roseate Spoonbills, many of which were tending nests with juveniles in varying stages of development. We also saw Fish Crows, Northern Mockingbirds, and an American Robin.
According to Shangri La’s website, “Since the publication of the book Lost Horizon in 1933, the term ‘Shangri La’ has represented a place of beauty, peace and enlightenment.”
The modern Shangri La in Orange has managed to live up to the name despite having to rebuild in the wake of two hurricanes. But, rebuild they did, even using wood from trees felled by Ike. Perhaps that’s part of how it became the 1st project in Texas and only 50th in the world to earn the U.S. Green Building Council’s Platinum certification.
I got a huge kick out of watching the nests. The nestlings in the spoonbill nest had hatched about a month earlier so I assume they’ll be leaving the nest soon considering how crowded it was getting in there.
Roseate Spoonbill was a life bird for me, which is a bit ironic since the first time I ever saw a picture of one was in a funeral home. I’ve been to that funeral home down in Orange too many times and I’ve spent a lot of time looking at the painting of the Roseate Spoonbill.
It was good to see them so thoroughly in life.
I could have spent hours there had it not been well over 100 degrees out. I look forward to returning when it’s a bit cooler. Perhaps we’ll take one of the boat rides into the bayou and see some alligators.
I’ve been writing a bunch of poems lately about vultures and grackles. One of those, “My Tourist Yard,” was published at Bolts of Silk today. Check it out and have a look around while you’re there. Lots of good stuff to read.