It's Official

It’s official, I’ve become a wimp. The temperature is only 59 degrees today. The wind is gusting around 25 to 30 MPH and I’m freezing!!!!!! I cranked the heat up to 70 this morning, but now I bumped it up to 72 and put on a sweater. It doesn’t take long to get use to the 80’s. I’m ready for sandals and sleeveless shirts again! I’m not quite as bad as the natives, though. While I was outside in just a long-sleeved shirt this morning, the young man who delivered my tree was wearing a flannel shirt and a winter coat!

New Bird, New Tree

A wild wind is howling over the desert today. After days of warmth, it has turned chilly (for us) again, and I have turned the heat back on. Our new Desert Museum Palo Verde tree was delivered this morning. I can’t wait to get it planted. It didn’t take long for the birds to start landing in it, planted or not. We had a landscaper stop by on Friday to listen to our ideas for the back yard and draw us up a plan. We went to hear his presentation yesterday, now we just need the quote. We hope to have the backyard landscaped soon.

While others spend their weekends malling, Gus and I like to troll the nurseries for plants. This yard is so much smaller that we won’t be adding too many trees to it, but we planted over 40 on the third of an acre we had at our previous house in Utah. We did purchase a four foot saguaro though, and we hope to bring it home and plant it soon. Saguaros are a protected species and you have to have the proper permits to plant one in your yard. The nursery we purchased it from is still working out the paperwork with the state. It’s gardening time again. Photos soon to follow!

Saturday was such a warm and sunny day here. Gus and I ate breakfast outside, then I did some housework with the windows thrown wide. The songs of lesser goldfinch and house finches wafted in the open windows. Mourning doves puffed their chests as the males started their courting behavior with the females. The girls don’t seem too interested yet, but soon there will be babies coming to the feeders once again. As Gus and I were rushing to leave the house I heard so many birds in the backyard that I stopped to look at the thistle sock with my binoculars. To my utmost surprise there was a new bird there--a Lawrence’s goldfinch! In his handsome gray waistcoat, his yellow lapels and his black face mask he hung with the lesser goldfinches. I ran to find Gus in the garage where he was loading stuff into the car for our excursion that day. “Where’s your camera,” I gasped?” He came hurrying in but the bird was gone, and though I’ve watched diligently for the last 2 days, I haven’t seen it since.

Breakfast in Shades of Blue

Come join me for breakfast
In shades of blue,
While the sun is shining,
birds are singing,
Flowers are blooming,
And I’m alone but,
I’m thinking of you
While I eat breakfast
In shades of blue.

~Kathiesbirds 2-29-08

What's Your Favorite?

I’ve been thinking about this question for a long time and I finally decided to ask it. At the beginning of the year Larry from the Brownstone Birding Blog asked us all what our favorite birding memory from the previous year was. Now, I would like to pose a new question and I hope that at least some of you will reply in the comments section. Here’s the question: What is your favorite Blog post that you have posted from last year? My favorite post from last year is Perigean Moon. If I could ask you to read just one thing I wrote last year, that would be it. Now I am curious to see what the rest of you have to say. If I’m talented enough, I will link your replies to this post. I’m still a baby Blogger here and still learning and I learn from all of you every day.

The responses are rolling in. Here are the favorite posts and the links:

Doug from Gossemer Tapestry, Why is This Important

Mary from Faith, Fabric and Photos, Joy, Joy, Joy

Mary from Mary's View, Home Sweet Home

Lynne from Hasty Brook, Dippy Goldfinch

Aunt "b's" Backyard, He's Back

Roy of Fenlandwalker, Canada Geese

Vern of Big Spring Birds, A Loon Story

Mary of Mary's Corner of the World, Lynx Spider Update

Crepes For Cranes

I could have had crepes and art work,
Both of which I love,
But I traded crepes for cranes
Instead. In a place
Rimmed by mountains, wind whipped and wild,
A noisy place of gray feathers and scarlet caps,
Garrooing voices raised in camaraderie,
Calling out, “Come join me! Come join me!
In my wild dance upon a dry field of grain,
In this watery place, in this wild isolation
Where we congregate.”

~kathiesbirds (2-25-08)

I Traded Crepes For Cranes

It was my birthday this past weekend. I thought I would be spending the day alone. Gus was scheduled for a flight out of Tucson Thursday night. He was going to see his parents and our grandkids, whom he had not seen in a year and half. I had resigned myself to a quiet day at home doing art work or working on my Blog. I dropped him at the airport to catch the redeye and headed home in the darkness. I was almost to the interstate when my cell phone started ringing. When I answered it I was shocked to hear Gus say, “Come pick me up. My flight’s been cancelled.” I drove back to the airport pounding the steering wheel shouting “No! No! NO!” to the elements that caused this change. Though the weather was fine here, a big storm on the east coast caused his flight to be cancelled. Not only was it cancelled, they wouldn’t even be able to fly him out until the 25th and his return flight was scheduled for the 26th. He was supposed to change planes in New Jersey. We saw on the news the next morning all the flight cancellations and delays, and the ice and snow that fell in another world but was affecting ours.

Once home I realized that we could do something special for my birthday instead, though I would have traded it all in a heartbeat if we could just get Gus on a plane. I talked to Gus about having lunch at a French restaurant a friend had told me about, and then maybe going to the University of Arizona Art Museum, which we have not been to yet. I fell asleep thinking of crepes and culture and woke up with cranes on the brain. During the night I remembered that Jean, the leader from my IBA survey group, had said she had been to Whitewater Draw just a week ago and saw thousands of Sandhill Cranes. Just last week a count was entered into the Great Backyard Bird Count of 12,000 Sandhill Cranes at McNeal, which is where Whitewater Draw is located. I wanted to see what 12,000 Sandhill Cranes looked like. I know they will be migrating north in a few more weeks, so I proposed we give up crepes and travel to Whitewater Draw instead. Thankfully Gus agreed.

Whitewater Draw is about 1½ to 2 hours drive away from here. There is nothing else out there, so we stopped in Benson to buy drinks and snacks to eat in the car. Our route takes us through the historic town of Tombstone which is busy with tourists as we drive through the center of town. Just south of Tombstone we take a left on Davis Road and head east for 22 miles. Finally we see the sign for Whitewater Draw and head 2 miles down a dirt road. As we get closer to the entrance to the Conservation Area we see the cranes wheeling in the sky. Waves after wave of cranes descends into a flooded field past the entrance. We drive past the entrance and pull off the road and park.

Though the wind is howling it still can’t cover the cacophony of crane voices. I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. While Gus gets out his camera, I jump out of the car with my binoculars and start scanning the skies and the ground. The wind whips my hair into my eyes and sears through my jacket, but I stand firm and watch. There are cranes everywhere. The field is thick with gray bodies. Up above the sky looks like it is covered in fleas. It is amazing to me that these huge birds can attain such heights. As they descend they switch from their fighter plane silhouette to their landing position. They bend their outstretched necks into a chair shape, then they drop their extended legs beneath their bodies, and their wings fill out like a parasol. When I sent photos to my birding friend Kathryn from Utah she emailed me back that they look both gangly and graceful at the same time. I would have to agree.

We watched and watched cranes for 30 to 45 minutes. Waves after wave of cranes descended. The field filled up more and more. I tried to do the counting method described on the eBird for counting large flocks. I counted out a group of 100 birds and multiplied that block over the flock. I gave up counting after I reached 8,000 birds. I decided to trust that there are still 12,000 cranes here today. 12,000 cranes for my birthday. Not a bad gift, don’t you think?

By the way, Gus shot over 800 pictures this day, and I met some really nice people as we walked around the rest of Whitewater Draw. We met a couple of beginning birders from Tucson named John and Mina. We had fun watching a flock of snow geese and a couple of wading avocets. Then I met a woman from Pennsylvania named Nancy B. She has an orchard out there but every winter she and her husband try to take a trip out here to see the birds. While we were talking with John and Mina, something must have startled the cranes for the huge flock rose noisily into the sky and started whirling about. Some cranes broke off and flew over us until they felt safe enough to settle down again. I had to remember to keep my mouth shut as I tilted my head back to watch. Fortunately none of us got bird bombed!

It’s still hard to grasp that I saw that many cranes that day. Until then, the most I had seen at one time was maybe 50 birds. This has to count as one of the best birding experiences of my life. On Saturday I received a gift from my friend, Kathryn. It is a book by Jonathan Rosen called The Life of the Skies, Birding at the End of Nature. Though I have only just begun it I am already hooked. Rosen writes about why we bird and why we are so drawn to birds. He writes about his love for birds in one passage describing it this way, “Just as I love watching birds, knowing full well they couldn’t care less about me. Their existence is still bound up with mine, we share a secret, though I am hard pressed to tell you what it is.” For me, part of the attraction is the mystery of flight. Oh! to soar on silent wings above the world without boundaries! Part of the attraction is what Rosen also writes about; it is the chance to glimpse a bit of the wild even in our urban and suburban landscapes. It reminds us there is a natural world out there, that all is not artificial and manmade. Finally, it is the beauty of the creature, the endless color combinations, the exotic plumage, the shining feathers, the wild discovery, the chase. It is pursuing without harming and the serendipity of the thing. You go out expecting one thing, and come back with a basket of surprises. Birds bring us closer to nature and closer to God, and, as Rosen says, they help us to more fully understand ourselves.

My birthday ended with dinner at the Longhorn Restaurant in Tombstone. By the time we arrived most of the tourists had left. Then we wandered across the street to the Silver Hills Trading company where we met a woman named Claudia who visited Tombstone, fell in love and moved there permanently. Gus also bought me 2 pairs of earrings for my birthday, though I was already overwhelmed with all the goodness the day had brought me. But it was not over yet. When we finally pulled into our garage and I started unpacking the car, Gus came walking in with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers from my oldest son and his wife. I went from an expectation of a lonely birthday to a day of abundance and joy. It will be a day I will remember for the rest of my life.

GBBC: Monday's Finale

I slept late Monday still trying to recuperate from this darn cold. I wore myself out yesterday but I don’t want today to slip away. I have high ambitions but time, distance and health will probably limit the extent of my birding today. I count the birds in my yard and at my feeders while I wake up and fix my breakfast. Then, I check the bird counts and results on the GBBC web site. I notice that no one has counted birds in Saguaro National Park yet, so I make up my mind to make that my destination for the day. But first, I decide to check out two of the other sites I birded at yesterday.

I head to the park first, which is really close by. I decide I can walk the dog and count birds at the same time, killing two birds with one stone so to speak, but when I get to the park there are few birds in sight. The workers are driving their bulldozers through the desert ripping open a brown wound on the surface of the earth. Construction of the Community Center has begun. I hear a few birds off on the opposite side of the park, but all I count are 2 mourning doves, a Gila woodpecker and a couple of house finches. All the little sparrows I saw yesterday are gone for now. I will have to wait to see if they ever come back.

I bring the dog home and head to the Vacant Lot again. This time it is so quiet when I get here. It’s only 15 minutes later in the day than when I was here yesterday, but still, there should be some birds. Then, I see the red-tail soaring across the gold course with nesting material in its beak. I watch as it flies into a tall pine on the golf course. Perhaps I will get to see Red-tail chicks this spring. (Are they called chicks? I will have to look this up!) Then the smaller birds start to emerge. First I see an Anna’s Hummingbird, and then the sparrows start to move about. After awhile I see the Lark bunting again, and in the tall trees at the edge of the field I find Yellow-rumped warblers, a Ruby-crowned kinglet, an Orange- crowned warbler and a Hutton’s vireo! The warmth of the sun is making me very thirsty with this cold, so I finally pack it in and head down the mountain to town. I stop at a local park where I count a vermillion flycatcher along with 50 Brewer’s Blackbirds and 50 American Widgeons in the manmade lake, but I don’t stay here long. I soon head out for Saguaro National Park, east.

Saguaro National park is divided into two sections, one on the west side of Tucson and this other on the east near the Rincon Mountains. The western side has a larger visitor center and more easily accessible trails, but the east side is much closer to me and has a nice 8 mile loop drive. However, today I head to the Javalina Picnic area to eat the fast food I bought in desperation. Plus, I have found that by sitting quietly that often the wildlife will come to me. Not long after I sit down a little ground squirrel comes out looking at me with inquiring eyes. I know it wants me to drop it a tidbit, but I resist the urge. Human food is not good for these creatures and I do not want to contribute to the delinquency of a ground squirrel. Instead, I raise my camera to take a picture, but the squirrel scampers off. Soon however, the birds start to show up.

I’ve been listening to thrashers sing since I got here. Now I hear a covey of Gambel's quail calling to each other across the desert. Then, a little black-throated sparrow lands on a twig right near the picnic table. This time I am able to snap off quite a few pictures before it leaves. Then, I see a flash of feathers cross the road. I leave my belongings on the table and follow. Looking through my binoculars I see a bird that looks like a cross between a junco and a sparrow. While it has a gray head and a junco-like beak, it’s back has the coloring of a chipping sparrow. I know I’ve seen its picture before, but I can’t think of the name. I try to take a picture of it myself but this little guy is secretive and elusive. Every time I think I have clear shot it drops back into the brush again. It always manages to keep a flower, or stick between us. Finally it flies off into even deeper cover, but I’m sure of what I saw and when I get to consult my bird guides afterwards I discover it is a black-chinned sparrow, a life bird for me!

I put away the remnants from lunch and climb around on the hillside. The Javalina Picnic Area is in a bit of a hollow with rocky outcroppings and cactus covered hillside all around. Beyond this natural bowl the Rincon mountains rise in the east and with the recent rains and snow I can hear water trickling down the cliffs in a gentle cascade. Walking up the hillside I come upon the covey of Quail. They are rather tame here and don’t dart for cover as quickly as the ones in my neighborhood, so I am able to take a decent picture of some of them before they dash for cover again. I estimate their number at about 14, which is the most I have seen at one time.

While I am standing there photographing quail, a little rock wren hops up on a picnic table as if to inquire about what I am finding so interesting. Well, you of course, I think as I snap off some pictures of it. The sun is beating down on my feverish body but I don’t want o give up yet. I climb even farther up and start to circle the picnic area, but it seems all the birds like the bottom of the bowl better, for there are few up here, save for a red-tail lazily circling the sky.

I continue on my way and climb one final outcropping. The effort and the heat make me dizzy and I sit down. It’s then I realize I’d better cash it in and go home. If I passed out up here no one would see me and I’d lie here in the sun and fry to a red crisp! I’m so thirsty but my water is down in the car. I have to at least make it that far, so, I slowly make my way down trying to avoid other people’s picnic tables. I don’t want to intrude on their privacy. Back at the car I gulp what is left of my water and decide I should head home, even though it is only about 3 pm. If I was feeling better I would go do a couple of other counts before the day ended, but I must go home. As I drive south on Houghton Rd I briefly pull off to head to another park, but then reprimand myself and get back on track. I make one final count of the evening birds in my yard and call it a day. The GBBC has ended until next year.