There we were, a gaggle of pre-adolescent girls approaching puberty, giggling as we shared the details of the recent talks we’d each had with our mothers. Apparently, the parents had gotten together and decided to synchronize their lectures about the birds and the bees. That was smart on behalf of the parents—armed with the facts, we wouldn’t be sharing misinformation.
Is that a Northwestern Crow or an American Crow?
Crows are one of the most common birds in the Pacific Northwest. There are crows in every tall fir, flying overhead, perching on lamp posts. You can’t miss them. And then, if you happen down to the beach—particularly in Puget Sound—there are hundreds more, picking through the seaweed on intertidal rocks, foraging through the debris left by the receding waters, feasting on dead sea life that has washed up on the sand. But, are those American Crows or Northwestern Crows?
When I first saw the headline, I had to snicker:
“Most millennials are intimidated by plants, survey finds.”
A recent poll has revealed that while millennials (aged 25 – 39) love house plants and want them in their homes, they’re also clueless when it comes to caring for them. Most decide to adopt a plant anyway, but some are so worried that they’ll commit planticide that they refuse to accept the responsibility of plant parenthood. Happily, there’s hope.
This bird was photographed in Colorado in February. Can you name it? The answer will appear at the end of next Monday’s post.
I try hard to create original material for my blog. After all, you can go read someone else’s writing somewhere else! But when I read this article, I knew I had to share it with you. It was that good.
We tend to think of geologic time on a huge scale, and the ice ages happened an incredibly long time ago. We forget how short our human history really is. This article made me look at the world with new eyes. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
One of my goals for this year is to spend more time outside, birding and taking pictures of birds. So with that in mind, I headed to the county park and nature center south of town. I’ve been birding there many times. When I was just starting out, I frequently encountered species new to me. Now, after more than 15 years, I’m just happy to see birds—any birds—and hopefully get a decent photo or two. I figure I can always improve on what I’ve already taken.
If you’ve seen the hype (or have a daughter who’s a graphic designer), you know by now that the Pantone Color of the Year is Classic Blue. The Pantone Color Institute offers an explanation for their choice:
Does a bird migrate long distances? Odds are, it has long wings. Or perhaps it prefer to walk or run—you can predict it will have long legs. Birds that swim—diving ducks, coots, auks, penguins, dippers—tend to share the same body shape, and if they catch fish, their beaks are similar too. Many Alcids (auks, murres, puffins, and guillemots) and penguins are shaped pretty much the same, and some even have the same coloring, though they’re poles apart.
It’s January, but my brain is in July. I need to imagine warm breezes, green leaves, and most of all, bright flowers. And what is more reminiscent of a hot, summer day than a bright yellow sunflower? When we think of sunflowers, the image that comes to mind is a large brown disk surrounded by brilliant, sunny petals, kind of like this: (more…)
I have a tendency to be a fair-weather birder. Give me warm, sunny days, balmy breezes, and sparkling blue ponds and lakes. Trees are full of leaves, bugs, and birds. With all the summer migrants in town, trip lists run long. Singing males are easier to spot, and the rituals of mating and raising young, offering additional opportunities for the wildlife photographer.
It has taken me a long time to appreciate winter birding. Temperatures dip below freezing and it may snow. Roads can be treacherous, providing unwanted excitement just getting to the birding destination. Many birds have heeded to call to migrate, and those left behind tend to be drab, matching the winter landscape. And then there’s the silence. I hear no songs, not even much chirping. Yes, there are birds out there, but where?
And yet…
Mountain Plover 