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Aurora on the Home Front

Northern Lights seen here in Sequim! May 10th and the Northern Lights popped by for a visit. I am happy to see them, but honestly, how DARE ...

Friday, May 07, 2010

At Home in the Land of Grits and Yo-yo Fishing


The sun might just shine bright on some old Kentucky home, but when Don and myself headed out headed out to find a a Painted Bunting, it shown even brighter, and just for us. The previous day Jerry ‘Old Coot’, gave us directions to a special bird he’d scoped out at the entrance to Wapanocca, a National Wildlife Refuge. Shucks, I couldn't say Wapanocca without giggling - yes; I am that immature. So, after giggling over our motel breakfast bar discovery of packeted ‘Instant Grits’, we found ourselves staring at roadside trees, looking for buntings on roadside trees near by the Wapanocca entrance sign.

Instant Grits – a product, I think not found, west
of the Mississippi or north of the Mason Dixon line

There are several species of Buntings in the U.S., but the loudest, most garishly… uh, strikingly colored and striking is the Painted Bunting. Up to this morning I had only ever seen one female Painted Bunting; a nearly drab olive birdie job, down in Florida. So this bright Tennessee morning, I was nearly as excited about seeing the male Painted Bunting as was Don, for whom the bird would be a lifer species. There were no disappointments - Hurrah! Don spotted a brightly scarlet-bellied male Bunting, that was utterly shameless in its coloring. While Don admired the singing bird, I swore so badly it is a wonder the critter did not just fall out of the tree. I was miffed, as usual - the bird being too fast for me to get even a crap photo off. Here’s a pic I nicked off the Internet.

High Fives all around for the Painting Bunting! photo by someone other than me

With a gem of a bird ticked off, and we were off to explore the rest of Wapanocca. It’s a pretty little refuge with large fields with all sorts of habitat, from green meadows sprinkled with saplings to gator-ridden cypress swamp. To make up for the missed Painted Bunting photo op, a very cooperative and cute Yellow-billed Cuckoo posed for me as it perched on a shrub, wolfing down caterpillars. Some birds are just awesome even if their bellies are not fiery red.

The totally laid back & cooperative birdie, a Yellow-billed Cuckoo;
common in the south, rare in California

Eventually we wended our way to the wooden boardwalk where the previous evening we’d heard Least Bitterns calling. It was wonderfully cool and rather breezy so not too many critters were stirring or calling. After a bit, Don took off on a birding walk. I stayed put on the viewing platform, stubbornly staring haplessly across the swampy lake, watching Moorhens and such, enjoying the breezy cool morning. After perhaps a half hour, I saw in the distance, a flapping heron-like bird. I gasped - I was viewing Least Bittern, puddle jumping across water reeds. Hallelujah, pass the plate! The Least Bittern was now firmly on my life species list as a ‘seen’ and not just a ‘heard’.

Helecoptering’ Least Bittern photo by Trisha Norton

The remainder of the day was spent diddling around searching for new birds, sights and sounds. Though we didn’t score any new birds, I did get my Wapanocca National Wildlife Refuge stamp in my Blue Goose passbook. Thank you for feigning being thrilled for me.

Don scoping the flooded terrain at Eagle Lake

The following morning we rose for the last time in West Memphis. After our morning giggle over grits biscuits and gravy, we were out early, on the hunt for exotic warblers in Meeman Shelby Forest State Park. Deserting the car – an act that, yes, I admit, often enough caused me to whine and fuss. Happily, like me, most birds enjoy a good squawk and fuss in the morning. So as we walked down a forest road, winding down a path flanked by tall shrubs and trees hung with Tarzan vines, the forest echoed with morning birdsong. Don has become quite the expert at recognizing bird calls. In bird calling I’m barely at kindergarten level, but between Don and myBirdjam bird recordings, I could pick out a few. Don could hear and point out Carolina Chickadees, Bluegray Gnatcatchers, Tennessee Warblers and White-eyed Vireos. Soon I was hearing and recognizing the upswing of the beautiful little Parula Warbler’s rising notes and the back and forth ‘I am here, where are you’ notes from Vireos and Orioles.

There were also bright butterflies to stare at and try for photos of and just about every kind of forest bird you would want – except of course the two species we’d come to the area for: the Cerulean and Swainson’s Warblers. Drat! Still, no complaints from me, we found a curious Kentucky Warbler – a lifer for me, and a way-too-speedy Hooded Warbler.

We played Peek-a-boo with my lifer Kentucky Warbler

Hooded Warbler

A Southern Tulip Tree; one of many amazing southern trees

When we left the forest I was tired and well on my way toward cranky. We stopped to buy lunch at the Shelby General Store, a spot Don remembered from his visit to the area 4 years earlier. The little grocery was a local historic spot and I totally had to appreciate it for it’s down home STUFF.


Click here or on picture to read the Sign

Grocery’s friendly, pet-able spokes-chicken, 'Jake'

Welcoming and Smiling faces in the Shelby General store

Testament to the local hunter & fisherman's prowess

Not only did the Shelby General Store have loads of cool stuff to stare at and collect dust, but it sold tasty sandwiches served up with loads of southern hospitality. I got greedy and treated myself to a genuine ‘Moon Pie’and a Goo-goo Cluster. Afterwards, I meandered outside to picnic tables on the grocery’s side porch where I watched a friendly man setting up for his one-man afternoon performance. We chatted a bit about a humongous mulberry tree that not only provided me with enough semi-tasty free fruity berries to serve my healthier dessert needs, but provide the fruity needs for a large flock of Cedar Waxwings. The waxwings are the same species that hit my Hawthorn Tree every winter. I was a little surprised to see such bird not only because we were so far south, but because I seldom see waxwings outside of Autumn/Winter. After buying lunch, Don and I headed off to more birding as the soft chords of a Blue Grass Love Song faded into the distance

Juicy Mulberries

We didn’t get too far before Don pulled a U-turn; there was a large turtle playing chicken by crossing the road - Photo Op!

Photo of a poofy-eyed, ill-groomed drowsy creature
more secretive and less photographed than Tennessee Turtles

We attempted to get a cabin at Village Creek State Park. As it was a Saturday, we were not surprised the park was full up. So after getting rooms in Forest City, Arkansas we headed back to the Park. The park was alive with birds; Chimney Swifts zippering the sky, families of Eastern Kingbirds and Eastern Bluebirds and I saw my lifer Tufted Titmouse which stayed in the dim of shrubberies, so no photos of that particular feathered cutie.

Chimney Swift - too fast & too high up to get good focus

Our goat... uh... make that our 'goal' at Village Creek was to find Whippoorwills and Chuck-will’s-widow, cryptically feathered that is, birds that hunt insects mainly at night and are more usually heard than seen, as they singing their names at night. After dark we tramped around the State Park finding the odd raccoon and possums, but couldn't find a Night Jar to pee in – so to speak. Oh well! We figured we would plot a re-visit at Village Creek later at the tail end of our trip.

This sign, near a Village Creek Park boat dock, left me totally befuddled – I mean, what's jug fishing? Making the fish drunk so as to catch them easier? How do you use yo-yos to catch a fish? Jug lines wha....?

Yo-yo fishing?

Thursday, May 06, 2010

Getting Down in Dixie

Massively swollen lower limbs, 4 tick bites, with its possibility of Lyme Disease be damned; I have birded the South. That is, the Southern American Bermuda Triangle: Arkansas, Tennessee and north Louisiana. It all started on Cinco Del Mayo when my birding buddy Don and I were finally settled into our rooms at a little motel in West Memphis Arkansas. Don was so champing at the bit to start birding he insisted we hit the parking lot to try calling in a few birds. Unfortunately, at the time we were birding the West Memphis parking lot, the birdies of our interest were somewhere on the shores of Cuba, listening to Salsa music and dining on El Fiesta Del Worma cocktails.

Next morning we were off to the semi-wilds of Tennessee, we met up with Jeff Wilson –a self proclaimed ‘Old Coot’, i.e., birding expert. Jeff is a hell of a birder who has slung binoculars with the likes of David Sibley and his ilk. For you non-birding types, if you play tennis, that’s like saying Jeff has hit a few balls with the Williams sisters. That doesn’t sound quite right, but you get my gist.

I interrupt my own narrative here to point out that Don is a great trip planner. For weeks and weeks before our trip, he checked out maps of the TN, AK, LA area, contacted southern birders and plotted areas for birding. I contributed by…. well, mostly I just stayed out of Don’s way. Don always politely asks for my input, I pretend to give a damn, and then we go do whatever it is he wants. I can do that because he wants exactly the same thing I do on vacations – new birdies to gawk at. I love not having to think before a trip. The only thing more relaxed than vacationing with Don is signing up for a group tour, where paid strangers do my thinking for me. Don needn’t be paid in anything but courtesy & the occasional granola bar, and he takes into consideration my insane demand for getting ink stamps in my 2 holy books: my National Parks Passbook, and my Blue Goose National Wildlife Refuge Passbook. We should all have such patient friends.

Where was I? Right, Jeff! We met up with Jeff at T.O. Fuller State Park, and took us straight away to sort of place that is dear to birders everywhere – a water sewage treatment plant. Never fails to amaze me how adorable little shorebirds are never happier than when they’re wading knee deep in shite (Little known birding fact #275).

“Ah, there’s a Baird’s Sandpiper”, Jeff said, adjusting his spotting scope. “See how it’s back looks like it’s been ironed? See how the Pectorals (Sandpipers) look comparatively round backed? And look how the Baird’s moves its head – deliberately…”

That little tidbit is the sort of stuff you can’t even find in a Sibley’s guide. Jeff was chock full of that sort of birding tip.

Black Bellied Whistling Ducks winging over
the sewage Treatment Plant; - a lifer species for Don


“The Semipalmated Sandpipers,” Jeff pulled out a paper pad and inked a sketch, “they have a short, straight bill, but compare that to the Least Sandpipers. They’ve a longer bill; droops a bit and ends in a knob. Now your Western Sandpiper, they have…”

The bird on the left a Semipalmated Sandpiper (lifer!), middle peep
a Lesser Sandpiper and on the right, uh...Pectoral Sandpiper...


That’s how my first day in Tennessee went. Useful insight after useful insight, including how to tell a Fish from a American Crow on sight (Fish Crows have shiny backs), how to tell a Eastern from a Western Meadowlark on the wing (Easterns fly like they’ve drunk coffee, double espresso shot, Westerns fly like they’ve a snoot full of Jack Daniels). Jeff knows his birdies.

As the day progressed I got one lifer after another, starting with the ever-present, ever serenading Dickcissels, The Semipalmated Sandpipers which have eluded me in California, the Carolina Chickadee.

Dickcissels: common song birds for Arkansas
but non-existent on the West Coast


Most of the new birds I saw were common, but are only rarely present on the West Coast. In the afternoon we stopped at a little country home by a tributary of the Mississippi River. There were dozens of decorative birdhouses (many in use) surrounding the house, and in the front yard a host of bird feeders kept up a birdie smorgasbord of peanut butter & seeds for the local feathered pigs. The owners were friendly and while Don chatted sociably with them, I wandered around the grounds happily taking hundreds of photos - most out of focus - including my first ever Prothonotory Warblers.

One of my trip lifers; the golden Prothonotary Warbler

A glossy beaut of an Indigo Bunting enjoys a bit of peanut butter
Ruby-throated Hummingbirds decorating a front porch
Hummer enjoying a free sweet snack


Under the hummer feeders, a Carolina Wren nested in a pot
A few of our ‘quarry’ eluded us. Our last stop of the day was the Wapponoca National Wildlife Refuge. We toured the site and settled down at a wooden boardwalk, where the locals, who threw in their lines, trolling for… catfish? Gar? Muskrat Love? We could hear ‘Cococococococo’ coming from the swamp – as Least Bitterns, a small heron that has eluded my sight for decades, sang “stay the eff out my territory” calls. Jeff told us if we were lucky we could see one ‘helicoptering’, that is, flying with its legs & bodies hanging dead weight like they flunked out of the Jenny Craig program.

Don and 'Old Coot' Jeff Wilson,
talking birds at Waponocca boardwalk


We didn’t see any Least Bitterns, but we heard, in full daylight, the call of randy Barred Owls, who carried on hooting their, ‘Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you alllll?’ calls. We also saw a couple of snakes swimming, more exciting when I recalled that unlike in California, in the south the snakes do not rattle to warn you they are dangerous – they just sink their teeth into you, and they swim. Take it from a Californian, it’s a comfort knowing the snakes attended safety classes so know to ‘don’t battle, rattle’ classes at their local Y.S.C.A. (Young Snake’s Coldblooded Academy).

Watery Serpent

Jeff and Don chatted on and on and I got flat out weary. I resolved myself to the annoying fact that Least Bitterns of Arkansas were just as pain-in-the-arse stand-offish as California’s Least Bitterns. I went back to the car, done in for the day.

Sunday, May 02, 2010

They're Back...

So... woke early this morning, slowing opening my eyes. A colorful vista materialized in the air by my bedroom door. The side of a large white metallic spaceship with vivid red emblems that stood out in sharp contrast to the dark of space - or maybe just the dark of my pre-dawn bedroom.

Yikes!

On awakening, I haven't seen a vivid vision, that isn't really there, in years. I've had a sense of mourning/missing that quirky aspect of my being since last October when I wrote about the Mountain Lion in my bedroom. When I am feeling firmly attached to grounded realities, I use rationalization to explain my visions. I rationalize that my waking visions are just that - visions - caused by faulty brain chemistry. It happens when I wake up, and the chemistry of my dreaming brain, spills over into my alert consciencness for a few seconds after I've opened my eyes and have become alert. It's rare I can drop the rationalization and allow myself to experience whatever the hell the visions are, for what they are - visions. They're so totally interesting to stare at as they float past in the darkness of my bedroom.

Back to this morning's vision. I woke up to momentarily see several cartoonish looking space aliens, guiding a UFO in to the open hatch of the space station. The beings were smiling, benevolent, as they floated into the port. Mystical? Other worldly? A strange inter-dimensional portent of things to come? How the hell should I know?

However one looks at it, I am totally stoked my 'visions' are back, at least for now. Yes, they scare the living daylights out of me, making my heart race from fear but what the hell. My heart needs the exercise and anyway who else can say they have their mind full of 3-D visons at the ready for their own personal waking enjoyment?