Playing Hooky
In the absence of a recent birding trip or bird-related dream, shall we go on another trip down memory lane?
It was birding that first made me voluntarily skip a class. I was a junior who had only recently been converted and extended beginner's membership into the LeTourneau Ornithological League (LOL). I was quickly learning the power of the fourth point of birding Calvinism: Irresistible Invitations. Jason and David were going on their second annual spring trip to the Gulf Coast, and they promised wonders too great to describe.
They were leaving extremely early Friday morning. The early part was no problem, but the Friday part scared me a little as the teacher of my only Friday class wavered to the end on whether there would be a test that day. Elementary Statistics being a class I took for personal enrichment only, I wondered whether I might be more enriched by dropping it. My fears were finally banished by the incomprehension of my classmates and the test postponed until Wednesday.
Before indescribable wonders could be had, there was to be several hours of driving. We stopped in the Angelina Forest to look for Bachman's Sparrows and Red-Cockaded Woodpeckers, but were unsuccessful in seeing either. David, sharp-eared as always, heard the sparrow, but a couple hours of wandering failed to show us more than a gloriously silent mature forest and several breathtaking butterflies.
Later in the afternoon, we stopped at the Sabine Woods Bird Sanctuary, which shall hereafter be referred to as the Worm Woods. When we first arrived, I leaned forward to examine a cute little inchworm (not being one of the gurus, I am not using proper terminology for what these things really are) on the fence rail; when I leaned back, there were five more on my shoes. In fact, throughout this habitat, by the hundreds the little rascals lowered themselves on invisible strings onto whatever ventured to wander below.
I am not an especially prissy girl, but having worms raining on me was still unpleasant for several seconds--until I saw all that could be seen in a place such as that. Hooded, Prothonotary, Kentucky, Magnolia Warblers! Northern Parula! Common Yellowthroat! All danced before my eyes with little shyness and waves and waves of color. I've seen nothing like it before or since.
Never, EVER skip your classes. Unless you receive an irresistible invitation.
It was birding that first made me voluntarily skip a class. I was a junior who had only recently been converted and extended beginner's membership into the LeTourneau Ornithological League (LOL). I was quickly learning the power of the fourth point of birding Calvinism: Irresistible Invitations. Jason and David were going on their second annual spring trip to the Gulf Coast, and they promised wonders too great to describe.
They were leaving extremely early Friday morning. The early part was no problem, but the Friday part scared me a little as the teacher of my only Friday class wavered to the end on whether there would be a test that day. Elementary Statistics being a class I took for personal enrichment only, I wondered whether I might be more enriched by dropping it. My fears were finally banished by the incomprehension of my classmates and the test postponed until Wednesday.
Before indescribable wonders could be had, there was to be several hours of driving. We stopped in the Angelina Forest to look for Bachman's Sparrows and Red-Cockaded Woodpeckers, but were unsuccessful in seeing either. David, sharp-eared as always, heard the sparrow, but a couple hours of wandering failed to show us more than a gloriously silent mature forest and several breathtaking butterflies.
Later in the afternoon, we stopped at the Sabine Woods Bird Sanctuary, which shall hereafter be referred to as the Worm Woods. When we first arrived, I leaned forward to examine a cute little inchworm (not being one of the gurus, I am not using proper terminology for what these things really are) on the fence rail; when I leaned back, there were five more on my shoes. In fact, throughout this habitat, by the hundreds the little rascals lowered themselves on invisible strings onto whatever ventured to wander below.
I am not an especially prissy girl, but having worms raining on me was still unpleasant for several seconds--until I saw all that could be seen in a place such as that. Hooded, Prothonotary, Kentucky, Magnolia Warblers! Northern Parula! Common Yellowthroat! All danced before my eyes with little shyness and waves and waves of color. I've seen nothing like it before or since.
Never, EVER skip your classes. Unless you receive an irresistible invitation.
2 Comments:
We should venture into Wormwood on our novice trip this spring.
I wholly agree. If we can find it. This stuff is way harder than it looks.
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