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Coyote Mercury Posts

Birds at Hornsby Bend

Every summer, I search for new places around Austin to hike and look at birds and other wildlife. This summer, I stumbled upon The Hornsby Bend Bird Observatory, located at the City of Austin’s Biosolids Management Plant/Center for Environmental Research.

It’s right on a bend in the Colorado, and the combination of river and the treatment ponds draws a huge variety of birdlife such as this Black-necked Stilt.

There are trails along the river, and a road that winds around the ponds so you can walk or drive, which can be nice for bird watching since your car can be used as a blind, which is useful for observing more skittish birds like this Snowy Egret.

I’ve visited three times over the past few weeks, and have seen the following birds (*’s by new ones):

  • Northern Cardinal
  • Black vulture
  • Northern Mockingbird
  • Little Blue Heron
  • Barn Swallow
  • Cliff Swallow
  • Great-tailed Grackle
  • Snowy Egret
  • American Coot
  • Spotted Sandpiper *
  • White-eyed Vireo *
  • Killdeer
  • Black-necked Stilt *
  • Scissor-tailed Flycatcher
  • Red-winged Blackbird
  • Brown-headed Cowbird *
  • Mourning Dove
  • Green Heron

In addition to these, I saw a few “mystery ducks” that looked like Blue-winged Teal, but not quite, as well as a bunch of “peeps” (small sandpipers) that I was unable to distinguish, lacking as I do the birding chops to distinguish between the Semi-palmated, Least, and Western Sandpipers. Oh, well, I guess that gives me a reason to go back.

When my Dad and I went last week, we saw huge flocks of Red-wings and Swallows as well as large numbers of Egrets and Little Blues. I can’t wait to see the birds that show up once migration begins.

It’s not all pretty birds, of course. There are pretty spiders like this graden spider also.

The spiders are good as there are very large flocks of gnats, flies and other bugs around those ponds. When we got back in the car to leave, it was like sitting in a plague of insects. But closing the car up in the heat for an hour while we stopped for lunch cooked them pretty well.

Young Mockingbird

Last Friday, this little guy showed up in a small tree by the window. I knew he was a baby something, but R saw through that streaked breast right away and called him as a baby mockingbird. A few minutes later one of the adults showed up with a bug and fed it to him before flying away.

The young mocker sat in the bush, trying to stay balanced on the thin branches and chirping for another bug. Eventually, he fluttered over to the neighbor’s shrubs, which are thicker and offer better protection since, according to Kent Rylander’s Behavior of Texas Birds, mockingbirds leave the nest a week or so before they can really fly. The adults feed them and watch over them, chasing away jays, cats, and any other predators that may happen by.

Later, when walking the dogs, I saw the adult singing from a nearby tree while eliciting chirps from several sets of nearby bushes.

That afternoon, we watched as a pair of black-crested titmice led a family of newly-fledged youngsters around the yard, showing them where all the feeders are. I suppose it really was independence day.

Young Grackle Learning to Live

Now that I no longer live in south Austin or around campus among the famous grackle trees, I’ve come to appreciate these rather striking iridescent birds.

There are a few that have been nesting in the trees around the house and so every few weeks I get to see the fledglings learn how to be birds as they follow their parents from feeder to tree to birdbath.

Here’s one of the juveniles with his short tail and fuzzy, discombobulated look.

He hops, beak open and wings flapping,  over to one of the adults who has clearly just scored a nice juicy peanut.

Fortunately for junior, the adult bird is feeling generous.

“More!”

The Birds:Twenty Mile High II

Last year, on June 22, I rode my bike 20 miles and counted the different birds I saw while zipping along the trails and roads in my little corner of north Austin. I intended to repeat the experiment on the same day a year later, but missed it by a day. So, here’s the birds I spied while riding 20 miles on June 23:

Northern Mockingbird… everywhere

White-winged dove, Mourning dove… poking along trailsides, but no Inca doves this time

Common grackle, Great-tailed grackle… open fields and parking lots

European starling… patrolling the medians

Great egret… hunting in the pond like a snake on a stick

Barn swallow… loads of them by the lake–riding over the dam one paced me about 3 feet above my head, a great look

Scissor-tailed flycatcher… a personal favorite, singing from a signpost

Northen Cardinal… singing from a wire

Hummingbird… most likely black-chinned, but too fast to be sure

Pigeons… flying over the parking lot

Blue jay… hard to miss from the trails and near the houses

House sparrow… waving goodbye from my driveway

Purple Martin… chillin’ on a martin house along one trail

Western Kingbird… perched in treetops on the trail where the Incas were last year

Turkey vulture… circling in the distance

American crow… kaw-kawing from the treetops

Great blue heron… looking like a statue on a pole near the golf course

Green heron… flying through a swarm of mockingbirds and scissor-tails

Swans and Muscovy ducks… feral domestics on the duckponds

This year, I saw 22 birds in 20 miles. Though I didn’t see last year’s Inca doves and snowy egret, I did catch the kingbird, hummingbird, pigeon, and turkey vulture. There are others, but I was moving too fast to really see whatever titmice, chickadees and sparrows might have been lurking in the trees.

In addition to the birds, I saw rabbits, deer, and humans.

Fresh Hot Meme

Way back in May, when the world was cool and the grass was green, Heather tagged me. At long last, I respond.

Here are the rules:
A) The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.
B) Each player answers the questions about himself or herself.
C) At the end of the post, the player then tags five people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they’ve been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

1) Ten years ago I was…

Just married, getting used to being a homeowner, trying to decide where to hang my newly acquired master’s degree, running a mailroom in downtown Austin, and starting on the first draft of A Place Without a Postcard, which <shameless plug> you should purchase if you haven’t </shameless plug>.

2) Five things on today’s to-do list:

I actually had one for today: pick up replacement ipod at the Apple store, get passports out of safe deposit box, drop off old light fixtures at Habitat for Humanity Re-Store, get mealworms for the wrens and titmice, get a new journal at Book People.

3) Things I’d do if I were a billionaire:

Purchase an island in the south Pacific and build a network of research stations to better understand and harness its unusual magnetic properties.

4) Three bad habits:

Candy, cookies, cake.

5) Five places I’ve lived:

Portsmouth, Rhode Island; Springfield, Virginia; Subic Bay, The Philippines; Naples, Italy, Austin, Texas

6) Six jobs I’ve had in my life:

Teacher, Project Manager, Mailroom Supervisor, Migrant Film Worker, Pizza Cook, Busboy.

I tag nobody specific, but feel free to use this meme if you’re reading it and feeling like listing.

I’m off to London. I’ll put up pictures when I return.

Time to Fly

A Bewick’s wren hunts in my tomato plants for a bug to bring back to the nest box on the fence post.

Last week, I got to watch the young wrens living out back leave their nest. It takes about 2 weeks for the eggs to hatch and another 2 or so for the nestlings to fledge so I had been keeping track so I wouldn’t miss the show, which came last Monday afternoon.

Each day leading up to flight day, the cheeping in the box grew louder and louder whenever one of the adults showed up with a worm or bug. Last Monday, I noticed that the adults were up in the trees singing and calling louder than usual. Then, I noticed one of the young birds kept poking his head out.

He would sit in the hole and look around at the world, studying it and listening for his parents, sometimes responding, sometimes ducking back into the dark safety of the nest.

Occasionally, he’d get his little feet up onto the lip of the hole and look ready to jump only to back into the nest again. Eventually, he jumped and flew to a nearby tree.

He hopped around in the branches and then flew up to the roof of the neighbor’s house where one of his parents met him, and then they flew off from there. A few minutes later, a second wren poked his head out of the nest and went through the same process.

At one point, one of the adults brought a worm to the nest, went in and then left again with the worm, as if to say, “You want this? Come out and get it.”

By the end of the day, the first 3 (maybe 4, I’m not sure how many there were – 5 at least) had flown and only 2 remained. They flew away early the next morning.

When I cleaned out the nest box, I inspected their nest as I broke it up and scattered it on the ground for other birds to use and was surprised by the amount of dog and cat fur in there. I guess regular brushings of all the beasts is good for the birds too.

The Lost Book Club: The Invention of Morel

Somehow, I forgot to post this after I wrote it 2 months ago…

I had to resort to interlibrary loan to get my hands on an English translation of Argentine writer Adolfo Bioy Casares’ 1940 novella The Invention of Morel. The book I received also included six short stories from La Trama Celeste, a few of which I enjoyed more than the novella.

The Invention of Morel is about a man stranded on a bizarre island quarantined due to some mysterious disease. He has fled to this island to escape prosecution, and believes he has found the perfect hideout. There are strange machines on the island along with a chapel, museum and a swimming pool. There are also people who seem unaware of presence as if they occupy a reality all their own.

As the tale progresses, the narrator comes to understand that the people on the island are reproductions coming from a projector that one of them, a man named Morel has invented. His invention records every aspect of a person even, possibly, his soul and then replays that person over and over throughout eternity.

Morel had invited his closest friends and the woman he loved, Faustine, to spend a perfect week on the island. He recorded their perfect week so that it would run in an endless loop for all eternity. Since the machine also captures soul, it effectively made those who were recorded immortal.

The side effect, of course, is the problem. Once recorded, the subject suffers dissolution and death. Morel thought that this was a fair price for his immortality, and the strange deaths would create the illusion of disease that would keep people away from the island so his machines could run along happily forever.

It takes a while (and the appearance of two suns in the sky) for the narrator to understand that the people on the island are not really alive, but rather, that he is witnessing the superimposition of Morel’s recordings on his reality. In this time, though, he too has come to love Faustine.

By the end of the story, the narrator chooses to record himself so he can live forever with Faustine in the perfect eternity of Morel’s recording, knowing full well that he will die, but by recording himself he will also have everlasting life.

The other stories in the collection are equally interesting. They tend to involve elements of the supernatural, particularly temporal paradoxes, dreams and visions, and alternate realities, “The Idol” and “The Celestial Plot” being particularly good. I’ll definitely read more by Adolfo Bioy Casares.

On to Lost. Sawyer is seen reading The Invention of Morel in the Season 4 episode “Eggtown.”

“Eggtown” is a Kate-centric episode. Like the narrator in The Invention of Morel, Kate is a fugitive from justice trapped on a strange island. I didn’t notice much in this episode that directly relates to The Invention of Morel, but it does provide hints about the island.

After reading The Invention of Morel, I began to wonder if the visions of the dead (and from the past) that we see on (and now off) the island are really projections that, like those projected from Morel’s machines, appear real in every way and even appear to have souls. The island, of course, does not need to record the person while he or she is living as it can possibly extract things from people’s memories. Thus we have Christian, Charlie, Libby, Dave, Yemi, Kate’s horse, Sayid’s cat, Ben’s mother and the others (lowercase o).

These projections are not hallucinations; they can be seen by more than one person, and they can slap people upside the head as Charlie and Dave have both done to Hurley to verify their reality. This also explains why Richard Alpert doesn’t age. He’s not immortal. He’s dead. The island projects him for reasons yet unknown.

Since we know the island can project a Charlie that can be seen by others, it’s logical to assume that it can project Richard into the off-island world to recruit people like Juliet who would never have any reason to suspect that Richard died long ago. It also explains why Jack still sees his father in the Season 3 finale.

I also suspect that the voices occasionally heard in the jungle have to do with the superimposition of one reality (the projected one) over the real reality that our survivors experience.

The Invention of Morel leaves me wondering if the island’s strange properties are not so much supernatural as they are the result of some technology. Of course, sufficiently advanced technology would appear as magic to those who do not understand it.

* * *

Now that Season 4 has concluded with the excellent three-part finale “There’s No Place Like Home,” I am more convinced than ever that Alpert is dead. I think the appearances of Claire and Horace Goodspeed in “Cabin Fever” are further proof of the island’s ability to project the dead.

It was especially interesting watching Goodspeed repeatedly chop down the same tree. Even if it was only a dream, the repetition and circular nature of the scene was very much like The Invention of Morel as well as another Lost book from way back in Season 2: The Third Policeman, in which the characters are all dead and in Hell where everything repeats (“Hell goes round and round. In shape it is circular and by nature it is interminable, repetitive and very nearly unbearable.”)

Of course, what do I know? I was way the hell off on my analysis and theorizing after last year’s season finale. I suppose I was sort of right about the time travel thing, but not in the way I thought. Of course, being wrong makes it all the more fun because everything is more surprising than it would be if I had it all figured out.

Here’s a throwaway prediction based on Morel. Locke chooses to die so he can have the “immortality” of being resurrected by the island. Like they sang in Jesus Christ Superstar, “To conquer death you only have to die.”

For more, visit Heather for her thoughts on the Lost Season 4 finale. She was right about who was in the coffin.

Click here for my thoughts on the other Lost books.