Life Bird in the Graveyard
I didn't go to the cemetery for a particular reason. The ancient-looking stones had long drawn my glance, but since inspecting them more closely required two very rare and valuable things, effort and free time, I had not entered it once since moving to this town nearly a year ago. I mustered both yesterday.
Having on several recent occasions regretted leaving my binoculars at home, I brought them with me. Seeking a peaceful place to seat myself in the waning warmth of the afternoon, I found a bench beneath a small grapevine arbor. For several minutes I breathed the mellow air and saw little to spark special interest: a grackle here, a dove there, flying overhead.
Movement in the vines overhead drew my notice to a tiny specimen of birdness no more than ten feet away. Though my experience with wrens is that they are rather secretive, an unmistakeable, active wren shape presented itself with favorable positioning and lighting for above five minutes, during which I rather constantly stared at it and tried to note what could be worth noting.
Every instance like this convinces me that I do not study my Sibley enough. I knew this one looked different than the Carolina Wrens I so recently had the privilege of observing, but I had little knowledge of what other wrens frequented the area, and I did not have the Sibley nor any other resource to amend my ignorance. I noted the white supercilium, nearly uniform gray color and the haphazardly striped tail. Perhaps the juvenile Carolina looked like that; perhaps not. It opened its mouth and made a scratchy buzzing noise; who knew whether any or every wren made the same sound?
Returning home, I was to discover that I had seen a life bird. The southwestern variety of Bewick's Wren perfectly answered the mental records I kept of my buzzing friend. Serendipity! Life abounds in the Stephenville cemetery.
"O grave, where is thy victory?"
Having on several recent occasions regretted leaving my binoculars at home, I brought them with me. Seeking a peaceful place to seat myself in the waning warmth of the afternoon, I found a bench beneath a small grapevine arbor. For several minutes I breathed the mellow air and saw little to spark special interest: a grackle here, a dove there, flying overhead.
Movement in the vines overhead drew my notice to a tiny specimen of birdness no more than ten feet away. Though my experience with wrens is that they are rather secretive, an unmistakeable, active wren shape presented itself with favorable positioning and lighting for above five minutes, during which I rather constantly stared at it and tried to note what could be worth noting.
Every instance like this convinces me that I do not study my Sibley enough. I knew this one looked different than the Carolina Wrens I so recently had the privilege of observing, but I had little knowledge of what other wrens frequented the area, and I did not have the Sibley nor any other resource to amend my ignorance. I noted the white supercilium, nearly uniform gray color and the haphazardly striped tail. Perhaps the juvenile Carolina looked like that; perhaps not. It opened its mouth and made a scratchy buzzing noise; who knew whether any or every wren made the same sound?
Returning home, I was to discover that I had seen a life bird. The southwestern variety of Bewick's Wren perfectly answered the mental records I kept of my buzzing friend. Serendipity! Life abounds in the Stephenville cemetery.
"O grave, where is thy victory?"
4 Comments:
Congratulations!
YOU'LL be talking like the guys in no time. : )
It was such fun to "be with you" on your walk! I just looked up the wren, too.
I am wondering what a "life bird" is...
I warned you non-birders to be careful on this site! ; ) But since you asked: a life bird is a species you've never seen before. Once you positively identify it, you may add it to your life list.
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