Skywatch Friday: Hummingbird Reflections

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Hummingbird and feeder photo by kathiesbirds with Nikon D80, 70-300mm lens.

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Visit Kathie's Poet Tree to see Throw Me Into the Fire.

Birding Maine with Beth

For me, part of the fun of birding is finding someone to go birding with. In July I travelled to Maine where I met my new blogging and birding friend, Beth of Beth's Stories.

We met at the Boiler Room restaurant in Wilton, ME, which is near Wilson Lake. The Boiler Room is housed in an old mill which still has the mill creek running alongside.

Beth and I sit inside the brick lined boiler room dining area which still has the remnants of its past hanging about on the walls and ceiling. It was the first time we met but we felt like old friends. It is an easy meeting. Her red hair catches my eye. I always wanted to be a redhead. Her bright eyes sparkle behind her new glasses. We order our meals and chat, but we are eager to finish so we can go out birding together.

After our meal we head out to find birds. A few clouds overhead threaten rain as we stop by the smooth blue lake to take a few photos and see if there were any birds on the water. Wilson Lake, also called Wilson pond, is just one of many with that name in Maine. My grandfather use to camp and fish at another Wilson pond up by Moosehead Lake far to the north. I was born on his birthday and it is because of him that I feel such a connection to this state. However, there are no birds on this lake today, so we drive over to a nearby cemetery I know of to see what we can see.

We park our car in a quiet corner where large eastern white pines ring the edge of the graveyard. We glance up to see the evidence of woodpeckers, but no birds. Then, we hear a ruckus in the trees and watch as a family of blue jays flies into the pines.



The young jays screech and squawk at the parents to feed them. The parents are frantic to oblige. We laugh and enjoy the show. Then, I see some movement across the street. The black and white barring of a hairy woodpecker hanging about flahses by and lands clinging to a tree trunk. Perhaps he is the one who made at least some of the holes we observed earlier. After spotting a red-winged blackbird in a wet meadow beyond the trees, a chickadee and a few mourning doves we head back to the car and decide to try someplace else.

I suddenly remember a place I had seen on the back side of the lake from when I lived here before. We drive west along the lake until we reach Rt. 2. I take a right, which is west, and just a bit further we turn off Rt. 2 onto Pond Rd. We follow the road around a bend to where it opens into farmland and meadows. There on the left I see the gravel parking area just as I remembered it. We pull in and grab our binoculars and cameras. Even before we cross the road to the trail I spot an Eastern Kingbird sitting on the gate. I am thrilled, for Beth and I had been discussing this very species earlier and she had mentioned that she had not seen it. Our first bird at the Foothills Land Conservancy site is not only a Kingbird, but a life bird for Beth!

Then, as we cross the street to the meadow we see a Savannah Sparrow catching insects in the meadow grass. A warm sun shines down on us filtered by the threatening clouds. The air is muggy but a light breeze ruffles our hair now and again. I did not remember to bring bug spray and neither did Beth. I know I will pay for this foray into the meadow, but I will not be deterred by mosquitoes. This is the only day and time that Beth and I have. We forge on.

Soon I hear this strange whistling buzz in the trees overhead. A quick look up reveals a flock of cedar waxwings silhouetted against the patchy blue sky. All my senses are on alert as we walk onward. Someone has mowed a path around the meadow, which is thick with tall grasses and wildflowers.

Beth is much better than I am at tuning into the wildflowers we walk amongst. She points them out to me and I stop to photograph them, all the while listening for birds and watching for winged motion in the trees. Suddenly I grab her arm as my mouth drops open, for I cannot believe what I am seeing in the nearby trees. A bird with a curved bill is clinging almost sideways to a branch. I see it's clear white breast and long chestnut tail. It looks at me through wary eyes rimmed with red and freezes. I'm torn between trying to show the bird to Beth and trying to get a photograph. Beth hears the excitement in my voice as I try to point the bird out to her. I raise my camera to get a shot of the cuckoo and it spooks. Beth watches as the bird flies across the meadow to the trees beyond. I never expected to see a cuckoo. It wasn't even on my radar screen. I know it only as a bird in a book until now. Later, I scour my bird guides for clues as to which cuckoo it was, for there is a yellow-billed and a black-billed cuckoo. I was hoping they had different ranges, but their ranges do overlap. But, since I clearly remember seeing the red skin around the eyes I decide it must have been a black-billed cuckoo. This, too, is one of the pleasures of birding, for birding is a puzzle to be solved.

We continue on our way, but poor Beth endures me repeatedly remarking, "I can't believe I saw a cuckoo. I can't believe I saw a cuckoo" for the rest of our hike. As the trail leads from one meadow to another I'm struck by the beauty of these milkweed blossoms. Though I have grown up with milkweed I am more used to the dry seed pods and the fluffy down that floats on the wind. This is my first time really noticing the blossoms that create the seeds in the first place. The unopened buds appears like tiny purple fruits, but when they open the berries become pink petticoats on a green stem flanked by large shady green leaves. No wonder butterflies like them. What a pretty place to rest and feed.

As we walk along we spot this huge beetle crawling in the grass. I have no idea what it is, but Beth is not afraid to pick it up for better viewing. I'm content to take a picture and let it crawl away. Birding not only provides the opportunity to see birds, it connects me with nature in so many other ways.

As we walk along through the meadow I glance back at the view behind me. These mountains to the west are framed by the trees that ring the meadow and by the tall meadow grasses and weeds.

Farther on I am surprised to find a few maple leaves in the marsh already turning, a reminder that here in Maine, winter is never far away.





Then we find a few ripe raspberries growing along the edge of the meadow. Beth and I pick a few, surprised that the birds have left any at all. We hear the pounding of a woodpecker and find a little downy working on a nearby tree.

As meadow leads to meadow, we cross this plank bridge over a small brook, almost hidden in the dense grass.

Here in this wet meadow we find common yellow throats galore. They pop in and out of the grasses and I snap numerous pictures before I finally get one where the bird is fully exposed. He looks like a mischievous little bandit with his black mask. I'm sure he is having a good laugh at us!

We finally reach the marshy end of the meadow. Beyond Wilson Lake lies to the east. This looks like perfect moose habitat, but we see none. However, the mosquitoes are out in force and I slap away at my legs and arms trying to ignore their bites.

We follow the path back through the meadow to our car. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes we walk in companionable silence enjoying the experience for what it is.

Back at the car Beth sits patiently on a rock while I photograph the farm field full of recently baled hay. The slanting light of the setting sun has thrown a cape of gold across the land.

I drive Beth back to where she parked her car and we hug each other good-bye knowing that we have each made a new friend. This is the joy of birding: new friends, new places, new discoveries. But as I get in my car to drive back to the hotel, I experience one of the pains as my welted legs start to itch with over 100 mosquito bites. I'll carry this memento home with me to Arizona where it will linger for many weeks. But it was worth every mosquito bite I got and I would do it all over again. Thank you Beth for meeting me and sharing this experience. To read Beth's account of this day click on Finding Birds in Wilton.

Sign embedded in a rock at the far end of the meadow near the marsh.

Visit Wrenaissance Reflections to see edition # 83 of I and the Bird. Click on the button above to view the main web site.

Birds seen:

Location: Foothills Land Conservancy
Observation date:7/14/08
Notes: This place was alive with birds and mosquitoes. So much to
see. I will definitely go back. Beth and I both took photos.
Number of species: 12

Black-billed Cuckoo 1
Downy Woodpecker 2
Eastern
Phoebe 2
Eastern Kingbird 1
American Crow 3
Black-capped Chickadee 2
American Robin 1
Cedar Waxwing 12
Common Yellowthroat 5
Savannah Sparrow 10
Song Sparrow 2
American Goldfinch 9

Photographer's note: All of today's phototgraphy is by Kathie with the Nikon D80 and the 70-300mm lens set in sports mode for the birds and landscape mode for the landscape shots.

Skywatch Friday: Storm Clouds Over the Santa Ritas

This photo of storm clouds over the Santa Ritas was taken by Kathie on Monday, August 25 as I returned home from my IBA survey in Sabino Canyon. The clouds are from the remnants of Tropical Storm Julio which rolled up from the Sea of Cortez and the Baja Peninsula to deluge us with rain for the last 3 days. To read about what I saw as I drove home go to The Rain, The Birds and the Horse Lubber. To view more Skywatch Friday photos click on the button below.

Photographer's shooting data:

Nikon D80
2008/08/25
Lens: VR 70-300mm
F/4.5-5.6 G
Focal Length: 70mm
Digital Vari-Program: Landscape
Metering Mode: Multi-Pattern
1/250 sec - F/10

Please visit Kathie's Poet Tree to view my other Skywatch entry.

The Rain, the Birds, and the Horse Lubber

Horse Lubber Grasshopper taeniopda eques

It’s 4:15 a.m. on Monday morning and I am sitting here in the dark outside on my patio trying to wake up. This is bird survey morning and it’s been so long since I have gone. We took the first part of the summer off, and then I was unable to attend July’s survey. Now, as I sit here sipping my tea waiting for all the circuits in my brain to start firing I listen to the haunting sound of great-horned owls hooting in the distance. The earth is still and dark and scented with the sweet smell of creosote. It must have rained at least a little during the night. A waning moon is playing hide and seek with the clouds and the clouds are winning, for very little of the soft pearl light is making it to earth. I finish my tea and head inside.

It’s starting to sprinkle by the time I head out the door. Rain drops spatter on my windshield. We rarely get this kind of rain here in Tucson. Usually it is the downpour of a thunderstorm. I drive in and out of showers all the way to Sabino Canyon. The clouds are snagged on the jagged peaks of the Catalina Mountains. Now a steady, but light rain is falling as I park the car and walk over to meet my companions. Peggy, Pam and Jean are already waiting for me with umbrellas. Though it is raining it is still warm and I am dressed in a light cotton sweater and shorts. My wide-brimmed birding hat protects my face from the rain as we hike a mile and a half into the canyon. I did not bring my camera and I am glad, for it would have been difficult to keep it dry in this steady rain.

Sabino Canyon 3-5-08

Everything has grown so much since I was here last. The canyon slopes are covered in lush green vegetation. Red rocks jut from green mounds of life, but the birds are few and far between. Usually we are serenaded by bird song as we hike in. Today I have not seen one yet. We finally arrive at our start point and there sitting atop a velvet mesquite tree a varied bunting is waking up the dawn with its song. It is our first bird of the day. As I raise my bins to get a better view I realize what will be a perpetual problem for the day-my lenses are speckled with rain drops, and though I wipe them dry, the lenses soon fog from the warmth of my eyes. I try a strategy of covering the eye pieces with my sweater, which I have removed because I was too warm, but this only partially helps. We hike through knee-hi wet grass on the lookout for snakes and start our survey.

The lesser goldfinches are out in force, but the rest of the birds all seem to be hiding from the gentle rain fall. As we stumble over boulders along the creek bed the towering trees are silent. All the rocks glisten from the wetness reveling their myriad colors and tints. We’ve seen a cardinal or two, an Abert’s towhee, and then a Cooper’s Hawk, but we’ve only seen one white-winged dove and Jean speculates that they are already starting to migrate. Down by the dam where the humming bird feeders are set up for the humming bird monitoring station we find Broad-billed Hummingbirds and some sparrow species we are unable to identify as it skulks about in the deep vegetation. Giant reeds have overgrown here creating the feeling of a jungle. These are an invasive plant and an eradication plan is scheduled for this area soon.

South of the dam we reach our finish point. I stumble on the Bermuda grass covered dunes when I step in a hole hidden by this invasive grass. It has rained for most of the three and a half hours we have been out here and everything about me is wet. My feet are wet. My shirt is wet. My arms and legs and face are all dripping. It’s muggy and steamy and I just want to be dry again, but we still have at least a half a mile hike out of the canyon. As we head down the dirt trail and we draw near the visitor center we see the power lines pegged with doves. I count at least fifty of them strung across the sky, but most of them are mourning doves with a couple of white-wings thrown in. We part ways at the visitor center and I hurry to my car where I have dry shoes and a dry shirt to change into. Then, it’s a 30 mile drive back home.

Sahuarita Road looking west 8-25-08

The farther south I travel the clearer the skies get until soon I am driving in bright sunlight. But gray clouds still billow overhead, threatening still more rain. As I turn onto Sahuarita Rd I keep my eyes open for these large black grasshoppers Gus and I encountered yesterday on our way to town. We were driving out of our neighborhood when I saw them moving across the road. All I knew then it that they were large and black and I wanted to know what they were, so, though we were anxious to eat I made Gus turn around and go back. I had to know what they were.

Gus stopped the car and I jumped out, but before I could cross the street I had to wait for other traffic to pass. By the time I got to the insects they were all dead, crushed by the tires of the other vehicles. Then, I saw movement farther up the road and I ran up there to see these large black grasshoppers with orange stripes bisecting their heads. Misty green wings lay along their backs and they were walking! Simply walking across the road. They did not hop and they did not fly, despite the obvious wings on their backs.

Horse Lubber devouring its dead kin

Well, I didn’t have the camera with me and our stomachs were starting to growl, so we headed off to eat breakfast in town, but we decided if the creatures were still there when we returned we would get the camera and come back to photograph them. Imagine our surprise when we turned onto Sahuarita Rd. and saw a wave of these insects walking south across the road! There were hundreds, if not thousands of them! Most were crushed by the steady traffic on this prominent east-west road. Yet, still some of them kept on coming, trying to cross this black ribbon of asphalt to get to the other side. Yesterday, when we finally returned from town we were hoping to take a photo of the grasshopper littered roadway. To our horror the road had been scraped and cleaned by the road crews in preparation for today’s rain. But now, as I drive past the same spot a few hundred of the grasshoppers are marching to their death once again. Though I am tired from hiking in the rain and being up since 4 a.m. (it is now almost 11 a.m.) I hurry home to get my camera. I loop back and pull off onto the sandy shoulder of the road and start snapping.

Dead grasshoppers litter the roadway

One of the first grasshoppers I photograph is devouring its dead brother. Grasshopper carcasses litter the roadway, though not in the numbers I saw yesterday. I follow various grasshoppers around the side of the road. A few wisely turn back into the desert and climb the steep gravel ridges created by the scrapers to clear the road of monsoon debris. Then, as I pursue one hopper it finally takes wing and flies revealing bright pink underwings! I am not able to get a shot of that because the flight was so brief and I was caught by surprise but I have the image in my head to enjoy.

Horse Lubber escaping back into the desert

When I get home the photos reveal a very tribal looking insect. While the basic structure is the same for all the grasshoppers, their bodies are patterned differently, as if some in some secret grasshopper ritual they painted their black bodies with fire, sun, and cactus. Now they march out in an army to accomplish what? But, though their bodies are large for the insect world at 3 inches or more, still, their frames are fragile when compared to the crushing weight of a thousand plus pound vehicle. I can’t help but wonder if they will survive this onslaught in, what I am assuming, is their native grounds. Will they march like this forever until they are extinct?

I do not know if these creatures are beneficial or not. I only know that I am captivated by their wild and tribal beauty. They seem to be a fierce creature with those huge mouth parts (sorry Doug, I don’t know what they are called and I am waxing poetic here!) and their ginourmous legs. Their bulging eyes seem to pierce right through me. I don’t think I would like then in my yard, but I am glad to know they exist in the wild. It makes me feel as if we have not quite tamed the earth, yet.

Perhaps the tribal chief?

A bit of research reveals that these grasshoppers are called Horse Lubber Grasshoppers. Everything I have experienced has been documented by others. To read an excellent but brief article about this species go to the Firefly Forest.

Birds Seen in Sabino Canyon today:
Location: Sabino Canyon Recreation Area
Observation date: 8/25/08
Notes: Most of the doves and all of the cactus wrens were seen near the Visitor's center. Part of this count is Tucson Audubon's IBA survey but I include the hike to and from the survey transect.

We had 4 unidentified sparrow species, 1 unidentified grosbeak sp. and 1 unidentified tanager species.

Number of species: 17

Gambel's Quail 5
Cooper's Hawk 1
White-winged Dove 7
Mourning Dove 60
Greater Roadrunner 3
Broad-billed Hummingbird 6
Gila Woodpecker 2
Common Raven 2
Verdin 2
Cactus Wren 4
Canyon Wren 1
Abert's Towhee 2
Rufous-winged Sparrow 2
Northern Cardinal 3
Varied Bunting 1
House Finch 10
Lesser Goldfinch 23

Photographers Note: All of today's Photography is by Kathie using the Nikon D80 and the 70-300mm lens. Grasshoppers and the Sahuarita road photos taken on Monday, August 25, 2008. Sabino Canyon and Cardinal photo taken in Sabino Canyon on March 5, 2008. As always, click on photos to enlarge for the best view.

Return of the Hummers/Where in the World is Kathiesbirds?

Female Costa's hummingbird

The Hummingbirds have returned to Sycamore Canyon. I have seen increased activity around my yard starting about 2 to 3 weeks ago. I've since put up my hummingbird feeders and have started a virtual hummingbird war. The flying jewels zip by on a regular basis now with some birds guarding the feeders for themselves. Migrants are passing through and I have noticed a few Black-chinned males and females as well as one Broad-billed female.

Male Costa's Hummingbird

Costa's hummingbirds are our main species here in Sycamore Canyon and they will be establishing territories in preparation for their January through June breeding and nesting. Anna's Hummingbirds are also possible. Due to this increased activity I have been trying to learn to identify the different female species of hummingbirds, which can be quite a challenge. In this vein I have taken out some Hummingbird guides from the library in an attempt to be more accurate in my ID's. I am reading and studying Stokes Beginner's Guide to Hummingbirds and Hummingbirds of North America by Steve N. G. Howell.

Male Black-chinned Hummingbird

Female Black-chinned Hummingbird

Hummingbird Nectar: To make your own hummingbird nectar combine 1 cup of sugar to 4 cups of filtered or bottled water and bring to a boil. Cool and fill nectar feeders. Do not add food color or use honey or artificial sweeteners to make the nectar as honey will mold and artificial sweeteners offer no energy or nutrition to these high energy birds. Remember to change the feeders every 3 days in warm to hot weather to prevent mold or spoilage. Clean feeders with hot water and white vinegar and rinse well. Do not use soap. If you are having a hard time attracting hummers to your feeders initially you can make a stronger solution by mixing 1 cup sugar with 3 cups of water until the birds find it. Refrigerate any unused solution.

Hummingbird wars

Feeder Placement: It is best to place your feeders in a shady location if possible. I have one of my feeders suspended from a hook attached by suction cups to my north window over my kitchen sink where I can enjoy viewing them easily. The other is suspended from the hand of my ballerina sculpture on my back patio where it is shaded by the patio roof as the sun travels west across the sky. This brings the hummingbirds in close where I can see them, but I could also suspend a feeder from one of the trees in my yard if I so desired.

Male Costa's Hummingbird reflecting purple light from its gorget.

Where in the World is Kathiesbirds? I've been trying to find balance in my life as I struggle to spend time with my husband, blog, clean house, get exercise, go birding and make prickly pear jelly. Posts on all these subjects are soon to follow but I have missed out on visiting my fellow bloggers and want to devote some time to catching up with other blogs. I have not posted Kathie's Poet Tree in a few weeks due to the lack of time, which I know many others of you can identify with. I'm still playing catch-up from this summer's vacation as new and exciting things continue to happen around here. The remnants of Tropical Storm Julio have drenched the area and I listened to the persistent sound of rain during the night. This morning the temperature was 67 degrees Fahrenheit when I awoke at 6:30 a.m. and I threw wide the windows to let the rain-washed freshness into the house. Though the rain has stopped for the moment it is expected to start up again this afternoon. Out my windows I can see the storm clouds boiling up over the Catalinas, the Rincons and the Santa Ritas Mountains and filling the valley below.

Storm Clouds boil over Mt. Wrightston in the Santa Ritas

Today's Photography is by Gus and Kathie. We were passing the camera back and forth when the hummers were here and I honestly can't remember who took which photos. The photo of the Santa Ritas is by Kathie. All photos taken with the Nikon D80 and the 70 to 300 mm lens.

Artsy Fartsy Birds IATB Edition #82

Welcome to the Artsy Fartsy Birds Edition #82 of I and the Bird

The Ansel Adams of Bird Photography, Klaus of Virtua Gallery: Limpkin

In this week’s edition we will examine the interconnectedness of birds, birding, art, poetry and philosophy. We will see how birds have influenced our lives and our creative selves.

When I read the Fenlandwalkers’ blog post about Flocks in Flight I thought of these lines from Rumi, a Sufi mystic and poet born in 1204. In his poem, divan 730 he writes:

Look! Quickly, look there among the trembling feathers
Of the copper beach, there, you see them—birds making
Ready to ride the dawn skies. They’ll rise up soon, rise up
Leave behind their conferring selves, to skim the seventh
Heaven turning and changing with the stripling light.

But Rumi is not the only one inspired by the image of a bird in flight. In 1926 Brancusi bought a sculpture into the USA from Romania that caused quite a stir in art shows and in customs. It spurred a legal battle even as it stirred the question of “What is Art?” Perhaps the customs agents and the artist himself could have benefited from the Bird Ecology Study Group’s Blog post, Flocking or Migration, Plain Pouched Hornbills. I think I see a resemblance to Brancusi’s controversial sculpture!

Brancusi: Bird in Space

The DC Birding Blog recounts the discovery of a New Forest Robin Species. Unlike our American Robin, which is really a thrush, this little bird reminds me of the robin in The Secret Garden a children’s book by Frances Hodges Burnet. The little robin is a central character in the book, and Old Wom Tigley of Wigger’s World not only has an excellent photo of this little robin, but he has used his artistic and creative skills to give us this impressionistic image of the bird that recalls Monet or Renoir.

English Robin by Tom Wigley

If Descartes, an 18 century philosopher declares, “I think, therefore I am,” then the birders in the movie, Opposable Chums, reviewed by The Hawk Owls Nest would probably declare, “I Bird, therefore I am!” (Or would it be; "I am, therefore I Bird?")

After reading about The Unkindness of Ravens and Other Bird Stories perhaps It's Just Me, Liza Lee Miller will join Edger Allen Poe in his poem The Raven as he declares, “Never More”.

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-

Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before-

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."

Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

So, to cheer you up, take a trip with Mike of 10,000 Birds to find out if he discovered, like Anne Morrow Lindberg, the Gift of the Sea when he explored The Birds of Virginia Beach.

Alright, has Jackson Pollock been up to mischief? You might think so when you take a look at this Swirly Bird entered by the Nancy Castillo of the Zen Bird Feeder.

Swirly Bird by the Zen Bird Feeder

You can try your creating yoru own Pollock masterpiece by clicking on this link for Jackson Pollock. Once you are there a blank page will appear but, just move your mouse and see what happens! Left click to change colors.

If you like Van Gogh and his Sunflowers, then take a look at the Birder’s Lounge to see a Yellow Warbler in a Sunflower. What do you think Van Gogh could do with this image?

Troy and Martha of Ramblings Around Texas could be our modern Walt Whitman's with cameras. Walt Sang a “Song of Myself” in his book, Leaves of Grass, while Troy and Martha sing a song of nature. While his post, Will The Guilty Goose Step Forward may remind you more of Sherlock Holmes or a recent episode of CSI, for me it recalled these lines of Whitman’s:

The wild gander leads his flock through the cool night

Ya Honk! he says, and sounds it down to me like an invitation;

The pert may suppose it meaningless, but I listen closer,

I find purpose and place up there toward the November sky.

Perhaps those geese may soon stop by The Nemesis Bird where he has been Birding Octorara Lake in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. While he is seeing shorebirds there, in Mary’s Corner of the World, faraway in California, she is also seeing her share of shore birds with The Smaller Birds of the Coast Guard Station. But Bird Freak encountered a Horicon Marsh De-Rail-ment in his birding quest.

From The Birder’s Report we learn that Great Horned Owls are Masters of Their Domain. This humorous old children’s rhyme may tell us why.

There was an old owl who lived in an oak;
The more he heard, the less he spoke.
The less he spoke, the more he heard.
Why aren’t we like that wise old bird!

If humor is more your fare, you don’t need to turn on Loony tunes when you can just visit The Loony Bin at The Marvelous In Nature. Then visit Mary’s View where Mockingbirds Make Me Wonder will have you laughing, and crying as well as saying, “Aw-w-w-w!”

Henri Matisse may have painted “Madame Matisse, The Green Stripe” but Mary's View has the Green Heron in her Heron Overload.

Frank Lloyd Wright was a master architect who envisioned human dwellings that merged with their surroundings.

"The good building is not one that hurts the landscape, but one which makes the landscape more beautiful than it was before it was built." FLW

Well, the birds were way ahead of you, Frank, as seen by Aimophila Adventures in his report on Desert Swallows who make their homes in saguaros. And just about as far away from the desert as you can get, Nature Canada reports A Foothold for Piping Plovers in Ontario. These bird homes mesh just nicely with their surroundings, their own Taliesin’s of the bird world.

To combine art and birding is not so unusual. In the Wings Birding blog you can read about The Birds and The Bard Birding Tour, for Shakespeare often used bird imagery in his plays and sonnets, as seen below in these lines from Sonnet 29:

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee,—and then my state,

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;

One of Goya’s most famous, yet horrifying paintings is that of Kronos devouring one of his children. It is also known as Saturn Devouring one of His Sons. Kronos is the Greek God of Time and was said to devour his children as Time devours the ages. In the Malaysian Birding Blog a new behavior is observed when a Gold-whiskered Barbet Eats a Eurasian Tree Sparrow. The image of this bird devouring the sparrow reminded me of this image by Goya.

In c.1615 Peter Paul Reubens and Jan Brueghel the Elder painted The Feast of Achelous depicting a scene where the river god serves up a feast to Theseus and his companions as they are returning from Crete. Gallicissa in Sri Lanka serves up an avian feast to his birding guests in a post he entitles, Making Emma Happy. His visual imagery reminds me of the feasting in the Rueben’s painting, though, I don’t believe there was any nudity going on! Then there is Ben Cruachan Natural History where the birds he sees are the ones feasting and they certainly have A Taste for Exotic Fare.

The Feast of Achelous by Peter Paul Reubens and Jan Brueghel

Whether you agree with him or not, Darwin has had a profound influence on birds, nature, and natural history. In line with his philosophy and theory we have these two entries. Living the Scientific Life: The Escalating Co-evolutionary Arms Race Between Cuckoos And Their Hosts takes you back to basics, while The Greenbelt is a tongue in cheek post about the discovery of A New Species. If humor is your style, check out the Darwin Awards.

N.C. Wyeth, Father of Andrew Wyeth, was a well known illustrator of Children’s books back in the mid 1900’s. He was working on this wall mural for the Met Life Insurance Company when he met his untimely death. If you happen to have some of these Tall Yard Birds come to your feeders or visit your yard, Audubon’s Birdscapes has some timely advice on how to keep them safe.

N.C. Wyeth Mural

When it’s all said and done and your head is full of birds and birding, you may have what the Bird Chaser describes as BIADD. Perhaps then it is time for a session with Freud or Jung, though I don’t know if either of them could really help most of us obsessive birders. Perhaps we are all part of one collective bird consciousness and we are all connected. Perhaps that is why we recognize our own species when we see it!