The Sign of a True Birder
Binoculars tan!
That's right, I have a pretty white stripe all the way around the back of my neck. Courtney and I hit the dirt paths today, and it was a great day.
We met at 7:00am, which on this almost-longest-day-of-the-year is well after sunrise. We still had time, however, to get over to what we thought would be Benbrook Lake while the dew still lay. During the whole day it took at least two tries to find each thing we were looking for, and sometimes it just never happened.
That was okay; we planned on improvising, if such a thing is possible, and found some very pretty places to walk. They are undoubtedly filled with birds during the migration seasons and in the winter. While they were not thus filled today, they were not empty. We saw many cardinals, mockingbirds, titmice, etc.--the usual jolly summer fare.
We got good looks at Carolina Wrens and Eastern Phoebes in a lightly woodsy area. We were forging our own path through the trees when our progress was arrested by a man in a golf cart. I repeat, a man in a golf cart. We were on the edge of the fairway at a private golf course. The man kindly escorted us to the border of the course and we made good our escape, sheepishly grinning at one another. This was going to be a good day.
Actually, our progress was slower after that. We walked along a path we presumed would take us to a lake, but we never saw the lake and expected it around every bend. We were lectured by pathmates on the names and properties of trees, bugs, turtles, fish, or whatever their specialties dictated. One couple was decidedly helpful when they told us the path we were on never got to the lake, yet its extent was 11 miles!
We didn't go much further on that path.
The most exciting discovery of that walk was a pair of Red-bellied Woodpeckers (puh-LEEESE, what kind of name is that? Have you SEEN these things?), which we discovered after hearing their hammering. A couple of Downy Woodpeckers joined them in their rhythmic performance.
The walk was good training for "auditory discrimination," I believe Courtney termed it. The songs of Carolina Wrens, American Robins and Northern Cardinals all tend to fade together without intense concentration and lots of practice. A White-eyed Vireo, just asking for a reversal in eye-color, sang from seclusion and only Courtney got a fleeting glimpse of whom we thought was the culprit. Our auditory victories came in the form of confidently listing two species (Red-winged Blackbirds and Carolina Chickadees) we heard but failed to see in our trip records. We saw them later.
The second major locale we found was the Fort Worth Nature Center and Refuge, which proved to be a very nice tract of habitat with helpful paths and people. On the entrance road, one Black and one Turkey vulture perched side by side cooperatively. The picture window in the visitor center looked out on several feeders, to which chickadees, titmice, cowbirds, blackbirds, and phoebes were irresistibly drawn. A Black-chinned Hummingbird buzzed around a feeder. And we saw it all from the comfort of an air-conditioned room. I say it still counts.
Outside were many Blue-gray Gnatcatchers and we caught glimpses of an elusive Great-crested Flycatcher. We decided not to count the Great Horned Owl in the cage, though he looked at us with great interest. An unseen vireo taunted us here, as well. I told Courtney that I, as LOL Vice-Secretary for Appropriate Avian Monikers, would implement plans to change its name to "Black-eyed Mockingbird" as soon as possible.
After a beautiful but uneventful walk on the marsh boardwalk, we saw something yellow flit across the walk into the trees. One further brief look, together with our knowledge of what was possible, made it clear that this beautiful and elusive bird was a Prothonotary Warbler.
View from the boardwalk, courtesy cheapo freebie digital camera
The trails at the refuge were beautiful and sunny, but the heat was beginning to sap us as we stumbled along. Courtney's lunch revived us both and we were glad to return to the air-conditioned visitor center, where the employee said Painted Buntings had been spotted that afternoon. I wondered whether my seeming repellance to these birds would drive them away even as I waited for them to return. My delight when those colors swept by the window was considerable. The males are just as beautiful as they are on the covers of all the bird books.
During a difficult moment, we decided to give up birding and learn botany, because flowers sit still and have no gender. But alas, unconditional curiosity drives us on. We simply have no choice. We did agree that being new to birding was a bonus; we see something new every time, even without help from more experienced guides. Though this does not make said guides any less desirable to have along, there is much to be said for making your own mistakes and making them hard. There were several things we saw briefly but were unable to identify confidently: a hawklike whitish bird above the highway, a dark but small heron I could not quickly enough convince myself was a Green, and a whitish smudge a good scope might just have turned into a Black-crowned Night Heron.
We felt we fared well with the ~35 species we did spy in the course of the day. Just being out there made life's foolish concerns melt away. Though it was hot enough to melt other things too, it was worth the sweat to feel more alive for a day.
That's right, I have a pretty white stripe all the way around the back of my neck. Courtney and I hit the dirt paths today, and it was a great day.
We met at 7:00am, which on this almost-longest-day-of-the-year is well after sunrise. We still had time, however, to get over to what we thought would be Benbrook Lake while the dew still lay. During the whole day it took at least two tries to find each thing we were looking for, and sometimes it just never happened.
That was okay; we planned on improvising, if such a thing is possible, and found some very pretty places to walk. They are undoubtedly filled with birds during the migration seasons and in the winter. While they were not thus filled today, they were not empty. We saw many cardinals, mockingbirds, titmice, etc.--the usual jolly summer fare.
We got good looks at Carolina Wrens and Eastern Phoebes in a lightly woodsy area. We were forging our own path through the trees when our progress was arrested by a man in a golf cart. I repeat, a man in a golf cart. We were on the edge of the fairway at a private golf course. The man kindly escorted us to the border of the course and we made good our escape, sheepishly grinning at one another. This was going to be a good day.
Actually, our progress was slower after that. We walked along a path we presumed would take us to a lake, but we never saw the lake and expected it around every bend. We were lectured by pathmates on the names and properties of trees, bugs, turtles, fish, or whatever their specialties dictated. One couple was decidedly helpful when they told us the path we were on never got to the lake, yet its extent was 11 miles!
We didn't go much further on that path.
The most exciting discovery of that walk was a pair of Red-bellied Woodpeckers (puh-LEEESE, what kind of name is that? Have you SEEN these things?), which we discovered after hearing their hammering. A couple of Downy Woodpeckers joined them in their rhythmic performance.
The walk was good training for "auditory discrimination," I believe Courtney termed it. The songs of Carolina Wrens, American Robins and Northern Cardinals all tend to fade together without intense concentration and lots of practice. A White-eyed Vireo, just asking for a reversal in eye-color, sang from seclusion and only Courtney got a fleeting glimpse of whom we thought was the culprit. Our auditory victories came in the form of confidently listing two species (Red-winged Blackbirds and Carolina Chickadees) we heard but failed to see in our trip records. We saw them later.
The second major locale we found was the Fort Worth Nature Center and Refuge, which proved to be a very nice tract of habitat with helpful paths and people. On the entrance road, one Black and one Turkey vulture perched side by side cooperatively. The picture window in the visitor center looked out on several feeders, to which chickadees, titmice, cowbirds, blackbirds, and phoebes were irresistibly drawn. A Black-chinned Hummingbird buzzed around a feeder. And we saw it all from the comfort of an air-conditioned room. I say it still counts.
Outside were many Blue-gray Gnatcatchers and we caught glimpses of an elusive Great-crested Flycatcher. We decided not to count the Great Horned Owl in the cage, though he looked at us with great interest. An unseen vireo taunted us here, as well. I told Courtney that I, as LOL Vice-Secretary for Appropriate Avian Monikers, would implement plans to change its name to "Black-eyed Mockingbird" as soon as possible.
After a beautiful but uneventful walk on the marsh boardwalk, we saw something yellow flit across the walk into the trees. One further brief look, together with our knowledge of what was possible, made it clear that this beautiful and elusive bird was a Prothonotary Warbler.
View from the boardwalk, courtesy cheapo freebie digital camera
The trails at the refuge were beautiful and sunny, but the heat was beginning to sap us as we stumbled along. Courtney's lunch revived us both and we were glad to return to the air-conditioned visitor center, where the employee said Painted Buntings had been spotted that afternoon. I wondered whether my seeming repellance to these birds would drive them away even as I waited for them to return. My delight when those colors swept by the window was considerable. The males are just as beautiful as they are on the covers of all the bird books.
During a difficult moment, we decided to give up birding and learn botany, because flowers sit still and have no gender. But alas, unconditional curiosity drives us on. We simply have no choice. We did agree that being new to birding was a bonus; we see something new every time, even without help from more experienced guides. Though this does not make said guides any less desirable to have along, there is much to be said for making your own mistakes and making them hard. There were several things we saw briefly but were unable to identify confidently: a hawklike whitish bird above the highway, a dark but small heron I could not quickly enough convince myself was a Green, and a whitish smudge a good scope might just have turned into a Black-crowned Night Heron.
We felt we fared well with the ~35 species we did spy in the course of the day. Just being out there made life's foolish concerns melt away. Though it was hot enough to melt other things too, it was worth the sweat to feel more alive for a day.
2 Comments:
Lynn,
Sure wish I could have seen that Bunting! Nana
Hey, those pictures are pretty decent! I had a great time. Thanks again for all your work.
Post a Comment
<< Home