Summer birding can be somewhat unproductive, but that doesn’t mean you should stay home in front of the air conditioning. So what if the birds are busy nesting and raising young? Birds aren’t the only attraction in the great outdoors.
I recently took part in a field trip led by several naturalists. Among them, they had combined expertise in birds, butterflies, and blooms. What a great combination. When the birds were busy, we turned our binoculars on the colorful butterflies fluttering around us. When the butterflies were scarce, we focused on the drifts of wildflowers along the trail. With so many fascinating subjects to examine, there wasn’t a dull moment to be had.
With the Gulf oil spill continuing to dominate the news, many conservation organizations are soliciting funds, ostensibly to help wild birds caught up in the environmental disaster. That is certainly implied by the (extremely misleading) picture to the left, gleaned from a well-known non-profit’s website. However, if you read the fine print on the donation page, it becomes clear that rather than being specifically targeted to the rescue of oiled birds, all these donations are simply being added to an organization’s general fund. As another website truthfully states:
Spring migration is over, and the birds are all focused on mating and raising their families. The weather is too darn hot outside to be enjoyable, especially when one is hauling binos, field guide, water, scope with tripod, notebook, lunch, and possibly a camera. Then, to top things off, the sun is coming up at an hour when even birders would prefer to catch a few extra zzz’s. The early birds can have their worms.
June isn’t a great time to go birding. In most parts of the country, territories are established, nests are built, eggs are laid, and the birds are either busy incubating those eggs or are run ragged trying to satisfy the insatiable appetites of their demanding offspring. Either way, the parents are being especially careful to hide the whereabouts of their progeny, making it very difficult for us birders.
Vast open spaces, blooming yucca, and constant wind were our companions on a recent hike to Corral Bluffs, an area under consideration as a new El Paso county park.
As I unlocked my mailbox to retrieve my mail, a cloud of wings billowed out of the opening. My bedside lamp is surrounded by a throng of fluttering insects leaving dark smudges on the lampshade. Every windowsill is littered with gray bodies. The final straw came a few moments ago when I opened the lid on the toilet and discovered a moth convention assembled on the seat. Yup, it’s Miller time.
Plop, plop, plip plop… it sounded as if it was raining, but the sky was blue and the sun was shining. I was happily prowling a row of tall cottonwoods growing thickly along a creek, searching for flycatchers, migrating warblers, and anything else of interest. Now, something was falling out of the tree tops, but it couldn’t possibly be rain.
Have you ever watched a bird leave its perch? I mean, really looked? Lately I’ve been paying close attention to various species as they fall, tumble, leap, or launch themselves from the branch or fence post on which they’ve been standing. I’ve been amazed by the many different ways birds take to the air.
Loons require a long runway, and it has to be water. If they get stranded on land, they’re stuck, unable to fly. Other waterfowl seem to do a lot of flapping before becoming airborne, but then they’re starting from ground (or water) level. I’m actually pretty impressed that ducks manage to gain altitude at all. From my perspective, they just don’t look like they’re engineered for flight.
If you feed them, they will come. Anyone who puts sunflower seeds into a birdfeeder sooner or later has to contend with squirrels. And if you grow a garden—well, squirrels like many of the same foods we do, plus flowers, tulip bulbs, and numerous other plants. The question isn’t whether or not you’ll have squirrels in your yard. You will. The question is, what are you going to do about them?
Mountain Plover 