Pawnee Grasslands

Pronghorns I saw while the Tornado raged -

obviously those critters knew what to do during an emergency
- GET THE FLOCK OUT!

[Management regrets, despite all efforts to prevent, yet another time warping travesty, Ms Miller is again 'back posting', pretending it is still May. Bear with us, the woman is stubborn.]

Hurrah! I'm in Colorado. Barbara's here for a week of classes in Denver. I tagged along to keep her company (she hates flying), and because I’ve got a wish list of birdies I’m hoping to see.

I must say, I’m enjoying myself, which is bizarre. In Sacramento, as our jet headed up into the atmosphere, I was in good health, excited and anxious to see Colorado. Our jet touched down in Denver and as I walked up the gangplank into the terminal, my lungs shriveled down to the size of pea pods and vast rivers of foul snot began running from my nose – and me without a hanky.

Oh well. Screw being sick! On my second day of vacation I slept and wheezed. The next day Barbara told me that during the night she lay in her bed listening to me go quiet after a bout of labored wheezing and decided I had died (made me laugh - I had thought the same thing about her on our last vacation). Barbara is trying to get me to go to an emergency room, but I don’t think my first ever case of altitude sickness or a nasty bit of seasonal allergies will kill me. Didn't come to Denver to ruin a vacation by heading toward the bright light – my ancestors will just have to wait. On Day three I birded again, while day four I slept to recoup. On Day five, things got interesting.
I was headed north on Hwy 5 for another shot at birding Pawnee National Grasslands. The skies weren’t sunny as they had been all week, but were overcast. In the distance I admired how black and dismal it looked on the horizon. But what did I care? After more than an hour’s drive, when I finally hit the grasslands, all the birds were hunkered down or else what with the winds, they appeared to be flying backwards.

Later, after a nearly bird-free tour, I retraced my path back to the freeway. The little town I traveled through was buried under a blanket of white hail! I thought, how very strange and quaint these prairies are. What I ought have thought was HOLY MOTHER OF TOTO! A WHOPPER OF A TWISTER JUST TORE THROUGH HERE!


The black clouds I’d seen on the horizon was a major tornado that ripped a new one for northeastern Colorado. It chewed up homes and cars and spit 'em out. It had missed me by that much. Since I was mercifully left alive to snort snot and wheeze another day, let me show you what I saw at the Pawnee Grasslands this week.

McCown's Longspur (a lifer for me), ignoring
the noisy, coughing human with the camera

My second Colorado lifer - a skittish Brewer's Sparrow, who to be coaxed within shooting range of my camera.


A Brewer's Sparrow that sung a little song

Earlier in the week I spotted my first Pronghorn Antelope for this trip. Something – which I’m reasonably sure wasn’t me, spooked it. He took off running on a path that took him racing past my car. I flipped up my camera and by a miracle, got shots of him imitating Secretariat at the Belmont - Beautiful animal! He was the first of many Pronghorn I’ve been spotted.




This photo below is the uncropped shot from which the one just overhead was cut. It shows how far away I was from the beastie. I chose this one to show how the last 1/3 of my photos of him were crappier - the green swath is the car's windshield I was shooting over. Really, it's a miracle these shots came out as well as they did - I was stunned. Also gives a good idea how much cropping is sometimes necessary to even see the little buggers I shoot. GAK! It also shows how badly I need to develop the habit of CLEANING MY LENS! talk about spot dot n' grit city...


An uncropped view - See that fleet dot in the center?

Silently We Stalked...

We moved silently, eyes wide, stalking our innocent prey.

'Over there! A doe... three of them! Shoot Gene, shoot them!'

Gene took aim... *FLASH*

Another innocent 'Bambi' shot in the prime of its life.

"Dang," Gene muttered, 'all you can see is the doe's eye shine!"

What's behind that bright eye-shine? Click the photo below.

A slightly better look at the doe behind the gleaming eye

But no problem! That's the fun of digital wildlife shooting; you can digitally correct your shots later, no critter gets hurt, there's nothing to butcher, no mopping up blood on the truck bed and afterwards at home there's ice cream for all.

One night we were out at dusk and discovered, much to all of our amazement, that turkeys roost! We spotted a good half dozen, big-arse turkey cocks gingerly leaping and flapping their way to the tippy-top of a 60 foot tall oak tree. I had always assumed turkeys just huddled down in grass/bushes at night. Nope, apparently turkeys fly up into the tree at night so they can rest and get some shut-eye without worrying about coyotes, racoons and the lot, just as chickens do.

Out Struttin'
Deer stalking at Sunrise, Sailor Bar and Goethe park was only one of the weekend's highlights. Yesterday we drove up to Grass Valley where Philip, Gene & Jo's son, married Krista a couple of years ago. On the way back we very briefly stopped off near the site Sutter discovered gold.

Gene and Joann in Gold Country
Gene and Joann had fun. One of the days we drove up to Grass Valley to visit where their son Philip married Krista a couple of years ago; nice trip down memory lane. On the return we drove through the Gold Country where Sutter discovered California's gold.

It was lovely having the pair of them all to myself.

Making a wish - Visit Claire again soon?
[Management wishes to award credit for all, save the last two digitals, to Mr & Mrs Gene Bertsch, whose sweet & lively spirits brightened the heck out of an otherwise dreary Clairey Weekend.]

HAPPY MAY DAY!

My lillies are going to spring open any day now - v. pretty. My new rose opened it's first flower. The pansies look like pandas and the columbines are beautiful. I found out there is a new columbine called 'Magpye' - it is so dark it is nearly black, but the corolla is half white. Needless to say, MUST order the seed.

Magpie Columbine
Speaking of ordering seed, yesterday I happened across Slow Food (opposite of fast food), an organization dedicated to saving old varieties of veggies and livestock. They even work to save production methods that produce old style Tupelo honey, traditional Hawaiian sea salt and birch tree syrup. I admire the organization's work.

Anyway, my point is I couldn't help myself; I ordered seeds for Moon & Stars Watermelon seeds (Hey, hey, you, watch those watermelon jokes!). A black melon (didn't I tell you to watch the jokes?) covered over in round yellow moons and splatters of stars. Who could resist magical fruit that lets you grow your own map to the stars? I also ordered seeds of Black from Tula Tomato and Sunberries. Now, whether or not I actually get these wonderful heirlooms into the soil will be another thing entirely, said the woman with year old hollyhock bulbs in the bottom of her fridge, alongside octogenarian daffodil bulbs.

If I could have ordered seeds for growing Mulefoot Hogs, I'd have ordered some of those too. Come to think on it, I guess I could order Hog seeds, but that'd be a bit messy, and anyway, I haven't any sows.