Here in Colorado, January is a time of muted shades—tan grasses, soft yellow willows, maroon sedges, gray seedheads—and erratic weather. Highs in the 50s are immediately followed by snow or a sub-zero wind-chill. I was craving green leaves, bright colors, tropical humidity against my chapped skin. In the midst of suspended existence, I needed a fix of fecundity. So last Saturday, my husband and I paid a visit to the tropics. We drove to Broomfield, just west of Denver, home of the Butterfly Pavilion.
Category: Birds
Armchair Birding: “Brushed by Feathers,” by Frances L. Wood
It’s 15 degrees outside, the snow is not so much falling as being hurled against the windowpane, and the highway patrol has just closed the interstate. You are itching to go birding. What’s a snowed-in birder to do? One solution is to grab a fuzzy blanket, a nice cup of hot tea, and hunker down with a copy of Brushed by Feathers, by Frances L. Wood.
Starting in January, Wood chronicles a year of birdwatching from her perspective as a naturalist, artist, speaker and writer. While the material is factual and informative, the true worth of this book is the way in which it is presented. The author comes across as an old friend sharing her birding journal with you.
Winter Birding in Colorado
Our recent warm spell is lovely, but it’s still January. Temperatures swing back and forth between cool and freezing. Trails are icy, and sometimes blocked by snow. This is traditionally a time to hole up and hunker down. We are attracted to warm firesides, hot chocolate, and snugly quilts. But if you, like me, are passionate about nature, and birds in particular, can we be content to sit by the fire? Just because the temperature outside is in the single digits, are we to ignore our obsession and hibernate like bears?
Of course, some birds have opted for tropical vacations, and I’m sure we would love to do likewise. But if the schedule and budget don’t allow for a trip to Central America, be encouraged. There are plenty of birds to be enjoyed right here. A surprising number of species hang around for the season.
Snowy Owl Sighting
We got the call yesterday afternoon. “Come quick! I’m staring at a Snowy Owl!” Of course, we dropped everything, grabbed the scope and camera, and went running. Amazing—a Snowy Owl turning up just 20 minutes from our home near Colorado Springs. That doesn’t happen every day.
It’s a good thing Pete was driving—I probably would have had a hard time keeping to the speed limit. We pulled up behind the line of vehicles, and half a dozen people glanced up from their spotting scopes. I jumped out of the car while Pete helpfully assembled camera and scope. I had just gotten the adapter last week—a late birthday present—and barely knew how it all went together.
The Ubiquitous Canada Goose
Canada Geese are everywhere. They blanket golf courses, leave droppings on city park lawns, and foul ponds. They are a significant agricultural pest, especially of winter wheat. They’re even implicated in plane crashes, such as US Airways Flight 1549’s emergency “splash down” in the Hudson River last January.
You can find them on any body of water, even transient wetlands devoid of food. You hear honking and look up to see them flying east or west as well as north and south, arranged in their ragged v-formations. They seem so abundant that it’s hard to imagine they were ever endangered, but at one time the “Giant” subspecies (Branta canadensis maxima) was thought to be extinct!
A Birder’s New Year’s Resolutions
Once again it’s January, time for making a list of all the things you would like to do differently in the new year. If you’re at all like me, you’ll resolve to finally lose that extra weight, walk at least two miles a day, and empty the accumulation of credit card receipts out of your wallet at least once a week. You promise to, in general, exhibit more self control over all those accumulated habits that stand between you and perfection.
But we’re not just ordinary people. We’re Birders. So it seems appropriate that we make some New Year’s resolutions specific to our particular passions. How about if we resolve to…
Blogs I Like
Today I’d like to highlight two of my favorite blogs, one about birding and one about gardening. There are lots of other great birding and gardening blogs, so please check out the list of links to the right. I’d also love to hear about your favorites. I look for reliable information, interesting stories, great pictures. What do you recommend?
Birding
Bill Schmoker is a Colorado birder who teaches junior high science full time, and still somehow manages to get out and take incredible bird photographs. His pictures have appeared in a number of publications, and the American Birding Association just released Ted Floyd’s Let’s Go Birding, which Bill’s photographs illustrate.
Recently, Bill’s blog, Brdpics, displayed a remarkable series of photographs of a roadrunner and a coyote. Yes, the real thing! One picture even contained both of them at the same time! Since I will probably only get photos like that in my wildest dreams, please go look at his.
Christmas is for Counting Birds
This Saturday I’m heading out on Audubon’s annual Christmas Bird Count (CBC). I’ll be joining tens of thousands of other birders around the world in a tradition that is in its 110th year.
December isn’t exactly the best time to be outside birding. A few years ago, our group experienced blizzard conditions and a toasty high of six degrees F. (Amazingly, we saw over 200 American Robins in our count area that year! I kept expecting penguins.) Other years have been somewhat milder, but December in Colorado Springs is never for sissies. Why do we bundle into multiple layers of clothing and get up in the dark to spend most of the day outside counting birds?
The holiday season is also incredibly busy. Shopping, decorating, baking, parties—who has time to tally birds? Why use up a precious Saturday right before Christmas in order to take a bird census?
What to Give a Birder
This is not another list of what to buy your favorite birder for Christmas. There are plenty of lists like that already; every birding magazine and website seems to have one. Most suggestions seem more helpful to the makers of the products featured than they are to the gift giver… or the recipient.
See, the problem is that birding doesn’t really require a lot of stuff. Sure, you spend your wad on good optics, and you need a field guide or two. But one of benefits of birdwatching is that you don’t need a lot of gear. Once you’re set, you can get on about the business of watching birds, which is really the point. Birders do not collect birds—they collect sightings of birds.
Not to miss an opportunity, many manufacturers have come up with “birding accessories”—things like special tote bags for your book and binos, many-pocketed vests, volumes on where to go birding, and journals with bird drawings on the cover. I’m sure all those are useful, but they’re certainly not regarded as must-haves. An old fanny pack, internet access, and a 99¢ notepad work just as well.
Instead of telling you what to buy for your gift list birder, I’m going to make a suggestion for a gift you can’t buy. No one ever said that gifts have to cost a lot of money.
Talking Turkey
There are turkeys, and then there are turkeys. One dictionary’s definitions include:
“A person considered inept or undesirable,” and “A failure, especially a failed theatrical production or movie.”Then there’s “talking turkey,” “cold turkey,” and “turkey trot.” Of course, as birders, we think of turkeys as yet another species to be found while out birding. But even this avian sort of turkey comes in two varieties. The birds we commonly consume at Thanksgiving have little in common with their noble ancestors.
Wild Turkeys are well adapted to life in North America. They have plumage that blends perfectly with the oranges and browns of autumn leaves. This makes them hard to spot as they forage for seeds and grubs in the underbrush. Additionally, their hearing and eyesight are both very sharp, alerting flocks to potential predators—and birders. Finally, if you do manage to spot a turkey, don’t scare it. When alarmed, they can flee at 25 mph, leaving us in the dust.
