After hitting a formatting wall yesterday, I’m back to try again.  I’ve already done some of the most familiar birds that we have at our feeders. Most of them are here year round and are beyond familiar. Today I’ll focus on the seasonal visitors.  I freely admit that my formatting problems are probably my own fault and chalk it up to inexperience with WordPress, but I’m learning. Today, more sounds and less photos. Maybe. I love images. The links will take you to a new window, or tab, with a flash player. All sounds are from the Macaulay Library of Animal Sounds at Cornell. On site, if you do your own searches, you can also find all recordings in a Quick Time player.

White-crowned Sparrow The song of this showy little visitor.

White-crowned Sparrow Call notes; a little buzzy quality to it.

White-throated Sparrow A familiar sound coming from the bushes and thickets on my property.

White-throated Sparrow Very similiar variation to the first, but with different notes in the beginning.

Mourning Dove Very familiar but beloved bird. I just love the mournful “Oh no… no…no”. It sounds very much like a fluted instrument.

House Finch A fixture around here; I love their buzzy little voices; they always sound so cheerful when attacking a feeder of sunflower seeds en masse.

House Finch The house finch’s song, cheerful as ever.

Purple Finch The song of the purple finch.  Not as common a visitor to my feeders as the House finch.

Pine Siskins ( Carduelis pinus) These little finches are not regular winter wisitors, but when they come, they can sometimes come in droves. I’ve included the latin name in case you want to search the library, ‘pine siskin’ turns up nada. This little guy has a lot to say in his song. This recording starts out with familiar finch sounding call notes, but at about 42 seconds in launches into an incredible song.

Pine Siskin

OK, my browser just crashed and I almost lost my entire post, so I’ll take that as a sign to end this one right here.

Take the time to listen to the birds; they take the starkness of winter and wipe it away with their songs. Remember, even one or two feeders can just brighten up your yard with the colors and sounds of the birds.

-Nancy

We become so very familiar with the winter visitors that flock to our feeders.  Much of the observation is from indoors, safely out of the weather. Especially Project Feeder Watch participants. We become familiar with the bird calls and songs of the birds that can tolerate us  being close by, filling feeders or trying to get that perfect pic of a flock of finches on a feeder. But usually, most of us don’t spend an inordinate amount of time observing our winter birds outdoors; especially those of us in northern states, where mid-winter temps can be daunting to humans.

So where do we go to find and become familiar with those elusive calls and songs?  After several websearches, I found the Macaulay Library of Animal Sounds at none other than Cornell.  So let’s give it a whirl and see what we can find. All the following are links to a flash player from the macaulay Library; if you can’t listen, it may mean that your browser needs an updated flash plugins. You can go to the Library link above and try searching yourself; the results are in two formats. The first format is the one I’ve linked to here… the second format is Quicktime and that also requires an updated plugin. If you can’t hear either format, it’s time to do some maintenance on your browser. By the way, I use Firefox exclusively, but to each his own.

This collection is of birds that we commonly see at our wintertime feeders in NE Pennsylvania, elevation 1,100ft, rural setting. To hear your birds, or any which I haven’t included, you’ll have to go to the Library and do your own searches. It’s relatively easy.

Black Capped Chickadee call This is a sound often heard during mating season, when you hear this sound, spring is right around the corner.

Black Capped Chickadee song The most often heard buzzy “chick-a-dee-dee-dee”

White Breasted Nuthatch The call of the nuthatch; you can hear the spring call of a chickadee in the background.

White Breasted Nuthatch Commonly heard song.

Tufted Titmouse The call of the friendly little titmouse; a call I’ve heard most often around the feeders (I’m not sure which of these is the call and which is the song)

Tufted Titmouse I’ve heard this call/song most often when the titmouse are away from the feeding stations, in the surrounding trees/shrubs.

Blue Jay I’m often amazed at the sounds the jays make; this one sounds   like a squeaky closeline.

Blue Jay The familiar call.

Red-Bellied Woodpecker This call surprised me; I associated it with other woodpeckers, not the red-bellied.

Downy Woodpecker The call notes of the downy.

Hairy Woodpecker The hairy’s call notes are stronger than the downy’s,however, I wouldn’t identify either unless I had a visual.

Dark-eyed Junco (also “slate colored”) Call notes.

Dark-eyed Junco (also “slate colored)  Song.

Apparently I have reached the limits of wordpress to post so many thumbnails into text. The formatting is going kerflooey.  I just betcha that with a small ‘upgrade’ I could get access to formatting that actually works. I’ll have to stop here for this post before I pull every hair out of my head.  Just know that the pictures are in order of the songs.  Most of you will know which bird is which.  This is a partial list. I’ll try again tomorrow.

Till then, take 10 minutes, bundle up if you must, and go outside, close your eyes and listen to the cacophony of bird song and call notes surrounding your feeding stations and loose yourself in the wonder of nature in our own back yards.

-Nancy

Pilgrimage Statistics

Consecutive Days Riding: 14                               Consecutive Days Blogging: 15

Today’s Mileage: 5                                               Total Trip Mileage: 137

      As I ride the bike today I am happy to note we have reached a milestone, we are two weeks into the journey.  I know my teenage son and many of my students would say that this calls for a party. 

     Instead I am going to shorten the ride today and let myself take a break.  As this is a virtual journey I can park the bike and, like we do in our dreams, step into any scene of my choosing.  I am going to return to the rural home I inhabited less then four years ago. When I stepped out of the back door I was in the woods, and less then a hundred yards from a beautiful waterfall and babbling creek.  I took many a walk along the path leading to the waterfall, writing poems along the way.  Nothing takes me back to the feelings and memories of those woods like reading my poetry and viewing the photos of the waterfalls.  So today I will share both with you. 

Natural Place of Worship

 One, two, three, four, five!

One, two, three, four, five!

      The bird’s high pitched call…

             A pace I do not wish to follow.

One, two, three, four, five!

             But a welcomed backdrop beat…

                  As I enter the spring green cathedral

                          With its carpet of decomposing leaves

                                   Like last year’s discarded vestments

                  Haphazard patterns of sunlight

                          Stream through the arched vaulted ceiling

                                   Dance about the floor like votive flames

                  Wisps of silvery filament

                          Labor of the spider priestesses

                                   Lift skyward and sway like incense offerings

                   I hear it already in the distant

                          Like a Gregorian chant

                                  The thunderous chorus

                                           Of the distant falls

One, two, three, four, five!

 ****

      My Catholic roots show through in the above poem which abounds with symbols of that faith. As I walk deeper into the woods the sights and sound of civilization are replaced with the voices of the natural world.

 Finally,

   With in sight of the falls,

       I am surrounded by only the sounds of nature. 

No blasts of canine alarm,

   no distant motor carriage,

       just the voice of water.

 ****

      I admire the dedication and faith of people who try to live a philosophy of peace and nonviolence.  I met a Jain when I was working as an enumerator for the 2000 census.  We had a conversation about how difficult it was to be faithful to his beliefs when living in an America suburb.  He would not cut his grass as it would harm insects inhabiting the lawn.  His angry neighbors would mow his lawn when he was away at work!

 A Prayer

 What a challenge it must be

    for a Jain to walk through the woods. 

With life all around and under foot,

    every step and every movement 

       must be accompanied with a prayer

For that life which one disturbs,

    crushes and maims

        with the simplest of movements.

But I’m not a Jain,

     I do not worry about the unseen,

         for life and death is but part of the cycle. 

But the idea of a prayer with every step,

     a prayer with every breath,

         a prayer with every heartbeat,

             is an idea with merit. 

Prayers of recognition,

     for the gifts from the divine  

          for the beauty and life that abounds!

 ****

     After dodging low hanging limbs and spider webs we have finally arrived at the falls.

Transformation

 Smooth reflective pool

Calm deep water

Above the falls

transforms

                                               Rushing,

                                                       pulsing,

                                      surging,

                                                              cascading, 

         around the rocks

                over the edge

         down the flue

                                       churning,

                                splashing,

                                                        foaming,

                                       swirling,

transforms

Smooth reflective pool

Calm deep water

Below the falls

 ****

     I hope that you have enjoyed the poems and images.  We will be back on the road again tomorrow.

As it turns out, the mysterious bird call of September 22nd’s post turned out to belong to the phainopepla. Here is a link to its call.

It is not unusual to hear the Great Horned Owl around here in the early morning or late evening. I love this sound! To hear it for yourself, click here.

This morning I heard another call at the same time as the owl’s. I’ve spent an hour trying to find out what kind of bird made the call (was it a bird?) but with no luck. I’ve looked up every night bird I could find on the online bird lists. It is essentially a two-note call, rising like a question. Any ideas?

We’re finally on the train back home. Although, it somehow took us two hours of train journeys to be on that train. The wonders of British Rail.

To be fair, even with three changes, taking the train beats driving hands down. However, a single from Bracknell to Warrington cost £140, which would be something of a drawback if work wasn’t paying.

There are times, as a Northerner, that being ‘darn sarf’ feels like being in a foreign country. This was certainly the case on Bracknell station platform, when some young lads tried to get the attention of some girls by mimicking bird calls. They don’t do that round our way.

Anyway, I’m off to enjoy the journey. We’re due to be back in time to watch football tonight, so I should be back later with some kind of match report.

The sunflowers are blooming like crazy and the goldfinches love them. This morning I captured a couple of them with my camera.

To hear the goldfinch song, click here.

We are lucky to live in a place that is infused with birdsong. A couple of days ago we were visited at the library by a roadrunner.

Have you ever heard a roadrunner’s call?

If not, and you’d like to, click here.

And in the abandoned metal building just uphill from Wildflower House, a canyon wren has made its nest. [As it turns out, that canyon wren doesn't have a nest there; I guess it was just visiting.] Here you can listen to the wonderful call of the canyon wren.

Help wanted! I’m not bad at identifying British birds when I can see them, but I’m much less competent when I can only hear them. This evening, after dark, I heard unfamiliar bird calls from the silver birch tree just outside our house. Putting my head out of the door, it was clear that there were actually two birds calling, one closer than the other. Fortunately, they hadn’t moved on by the time I got my audio recorder going. There’s an extract of the recording here. Can you satisfy my curiosity and identify the birds? Bonus points if you can identify the aircraft as well.

Vertigo “The Coming and the Going” – A scattered and jumbled attempt at the heavy-handed and female-fronted “dark” rock that bands like Evanescence hit it big with a few years ago; yeah… I wasn’t big on them, either.

The Darbuki Kings “Been Laden You Too Long” – Awesome instrumental gypsy music, much in the same vein as bands like Estradasphere… or Gogol Bordello on valium; a welcome break from the mounds of pop punk I receive daily.

Evil Cowards “Covered in Gas” – The new side project from Electric Six’s Dick Valentine (also known as Tyler Spencer), Evil Cowards may be a stripped-down version of E6 when it comes to the number of band mates (Cowards is just Spencer and longtime friend Will Bates), but it’s not stripped down when it comes to the size of their sound; meaning, if you like E6 you will like EC.

Kristen Cothron “Love Letters from a Fool” – It’s nearly impossible to listen to this album and not hear the influence of Fiona Apple (though an admittedly more jazzy take), but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s a solid effort from this singer/multi-instrumentalist, but hopefully on her next album the Apple comparison won’t be as obvious.

The Wooden Birds “Magnolia” – A dozen songs of quiet, ballad-like indie-folk from Andrew Kenny (previously of The American Analog Set) that rolls out both softly and smartly; with a muted bass serving as its spine, and well-written lyrics acting as its appendages, “Magnolia” is able to stand on its own as a great body of work from its first track to its last.

Miles Davis “Sketches of Spain” (Legacy Edition) – This rerelease of the third collaboration between Miles and pianist/composer Gil Evans gives fans two discs of the same album; first, the album as it originally appeared upon its release in 1960, and second, with alternate and extra tracks thrown in to show more of the creative process behind the masterpiece. The original album clocked in at just over the 45-minute mark, but the extended version has nearly an extra half-hour of new music, including a full version of the track “Saeta” and a new album-closer in the track “Teo.”

Charles Mingus “Mingus Ah Um” (Legacy Edition) – This is far more than a remastering of Mingus’ 1959 classic; instead, what we have here are two discs that would solidify Mingus’ mark in the annals of jazz music. The first disc, “Ah Um,” gives us the original, but throws in a few bonus tracks and an alternate take of “Bird Calls” for good measure. The second disc continues the alternative takes from “Ah Um,” but then starts directly into “Mingus Dynasty” which the jazz master also released in ‘59. Then, at the very end, we’re given the bonus track “Strollin’ (Nostalgia in Times Square)”, which left me sitting on my couch thinking one thing: “Damn… I’m glad they sent this to me to review.”

The Dave Brubeck Quartet “Time Out” (Legacy Edition) – Even if you don’t know who Dave Brubeck is, chances are you know his music. When “Time Out” was first released in 1959 it quickly became a huge hit in the world of jazz, going on to become the first album of the genre to ever sell a million copies. This year marks the 50th anniversary of the album’s release, and Columbia has given Brubeck fans a three-disc set to mark the occasion. The first disc is a remastered version of the album with no bonus tracks or extra material. And that’s absolutely fine, because “Time Out” is still a perfect album from start to finish without any new bells or whistles needed to make it better. The second disc is a mixture of three performances of the Quartet live at Newport in 1961, 1963 and 1964. And the third disc is a DVD that features historic performance footage of the band, a photo gallery, and an interview with the man himself talking about the making of the album. This set is both worthy of the musicians it pays tribute to, and worth it for the fans who pick it up.

Figuring out a different way of doing these reviews,

-Shady

Kelly Salasin

I wake to the sounds of birds and wonder if I should get up too. Now that the boys are home for the summer, I like to be up early to have some quiet time.  I roll over to check my husband’s digital and see his back instead.  If he’s still beside me, it’s too early to get up.  I notice that it’s dark outside.

I lift my sleepy head over his body in a heroic effort to discover the time.  It’s 4:44.  I like that.  Those fours could inspire me to capture this day and write about the “masculine.”  ”4″ is the number for Emperor  in the tarot, and this is the first full day of summer- the male in full expression. I roll over and slip back into the soft feminine of my dreams instead.

When the sounds of birds wake me again, the room is brighter and Casey is gone.    I can see the clock- no problem:  5:40- nothing interesting about that number to get  up early and write.  I slip back into dreams one last time.

Another chorus wakes me again, and this time the bedroom is filled with light.  It’s coming on 7.  My husband will be leaving for work any minute and if I don’t wake fully now, I sleep  till the boys are up and that would be a steep start to my day.

When Casey returns to say goodbye, I force myself into conversation. He says that I was laughing in my sleep- hysterically- like he’s never heard before.  I couldn’t recall what I was dreaming, but later I remember being back at Kripalu with a YogaDance friend and talking with my teacher Megha.  My cheeks lift even now.

Our conversation lulls- as it does when someone is still horizontal- and a silence falls between us before I say, “Some birds are so repetitive.”

Casey tilts his head to hear the bird in question and adds, “Maybe they’re parents.”

That’s enough of a curiosity to engage my mind and while my husband kisses me goodbye, I begin to wonder- what would a bird say to its kids?

On a week of rain like this, she might be going stir crazy in the nest so that the moment the clouds lift, she’d say, “Get of this nest,  Get out of this nest, Get out of this nest!”

Or maybe she has a teenage son like mine who wants to lie around all day and she’s saying,  “Go get some worms, Go get some worms, Go get some worms!”

It could be her “nest blessing day” and then she’d call to the kids, “Pick up your stuff, Pick up your stuff, Pick up your stuff!.”

Whatever she’s repeating, it’s annoying and it gets me out of bed.  Who wants to lie around listening to that call over and over again?

And then I get to thinking, why do some birds have annoying, repetitive calls and others- like the thrush- have deep, soulful sounds that stir you inside?

And right way, I know they’re just like us; and I know that  I want to be a thrush, not a “Pick up your stuff, Pick up your stuff, Pick up your stuff,” bird.  That bird sits right out my window on a nearby tree, but the sound of the thrush comes deep from the woods.

To be honest, I don’t know much about birds except that I hear them a lot living near the woods as I do.   The only call that I think I recognize is the thrush- because I’ve always loved it- ever since we first moved to the mountains– but I could be wrong– I don’t have the knack for remembering bird sounds.

I used get excited about discovering an exotic call but whenever I’d ask my bird knowing neighbor, “Hey Phillip, what was that?”  He’d laugh and say, “That was a Robin, Kelly”  or  worse,” That was a crow.”  I gave up.

Apparently, Jack Kerouc said,  “Even if it didn’t happen, it’s true.” And this comforts me because what I have to say about the thrush IS true, even if it’s not her that I hear.

Now, the truth of my  call is interrupted by  the scratching of “chickadees” in the “nest” above me.  I’m bummed.  It’s only 8.  I didn’t even have time to check facebook or twitter or to finish telling you about how I want to have the call of a thrush in my heart instead of a complainer.

I listen for her again in the woods, but she’s gone.  Maybe her own kids are up and she has to shift her attention to twigs and worms and lessons in flight.

Maybe that deep, spiraling call of the soul only comes when she’s alone- in the rich, dark woods- before the kids get up.

I know this, when night falls and the children are tucked in, she’ll return again- and so will I.

done

I use a Canon XL-H1 digital video camera with a Canon 16x Manual lens. I prefer the manual lens over the automatic because it forces me to consider all of the optic options that I have available while filming. To increase the long end of the lens, I use a Canon XL 1.6 extender. The birds are very skittish and the closest I can get to the hole in the tree is about 15 feet.  I use a Manfrotto WildTracker 301 tripod. This is the very minimum tripod to use for birds, anything smaller is just too shaky.  The camera was pointed at the nest while I backed off from it about 30 feet and activated the camera with a remote control. We waited 10 minutes before the bird flew into the hole and about 20 minutes before it flew out again.  It’s a fleeting but good shot.

done

I’m glad to see more websites dedicated to bird videos. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology, http://www.birds.cornell.edu/ is a great example.

Further to my post about the educational side benefits of my 4-year-old daughter’s iphone adventures (“If you want smart kids, show them your smartphone”), here’s a video of my 23-month-old son George identifying a variety of garden birds by their picture and call on the iPhone application Chirp.

We certainly haven’t “hot-housed” him to remember these names – after showing him the app once, he’s repeatedly asked to play with it (he’s probably done so for around 10 stints of no more than 5 minutes apiece, with me speaking the names as I let him choose and press the birds he wants to see).

Obviously, like any proud parent I’d like to think he was particularly advanced – but I also believe there’s something in the nature of this kind of fun, interactive learning which encourages even very young children to soak up knowledge.

Parental involvement and encouragement is also vital, of course, but would he learn as much from a book or flashcards? I doubt it. For a start, they don’t have the added dimension of being able to play him recordings of the birds’ calls as he looks at their pictures. He likes books, too, but at this age they don’t hold his attention for very long (he seems more interesting in ripping them up).

It’s also crucial, I believe, to allow a child to follow his or her own curiousity in a way that’s fun.  George has shown an interest in birds ever since he’s been able to point. It’s no good trying to force a young child to play with something they don’t find engaging (as evidenced by my 4-year-old Ellen’s complete refusal to play with the pointedly pedagogic ‘Phonics’ application, which may appeal to a lot of parents with its boast of compliance with UK National Curriculum guidelines, but does little to capture kids’ imaginations).

Winston Holmes is a bit of an enigma. He was probably born around 1898 in Kansas City (Missouri) and was a good looking and restless man. He started a record label, Merritt Records, and was a performer himself. His vocals were energetic, with bird calls, train whistles and yodels. He made some songs with Lottie Kimbrough, a blues singer who made a career in the twenties. You can hear them together on Lost Lover Blues and Wayward Girl Blues.

He also made a session with Charlie Turner playing twelve-string guitar and harmonica on Rounders Lament and The Kansas City Call, with bird calls on both songs and yodel on the second one. No more info about all this, but these yodels are very early examples, at a time where Jimmie Rodgers was popularizing them.

Lost Lover Blues and Wayward Girl Blues (1928 – with Lottie Kimbrough)

Rounders Lament and The Kansas City Call (1929 – with Charlie Turner)

(image from the Yazoo Record Times Ain’t Like They Used To Be, Vol. 1, info and music from the Document cd Kansas City Blues)

It is often said in my family that my dad is more traditional than the Catholic Church.  Basically this means we have a lot of family traditions.  Dad passed his love of tradition to all of us.  We grew up with an appreciation and respect for family traditions and Sacred Tradition, which is one reason we love being Catholic.

Schwartz Family traditions are numerous and varied.  Some have been around for as long as we can remember, but we are open to adding new ones or bringing a different twist to old ones.  We can do that: our traditions are, after all, traditions with a lower-case t.  We understand the difference between our traditions and Sacred Tradition with a capital T.

Each of us all have our favorite traditions, but there are a few that are favorites of the entire family.  Our annual Mother’s Day hike is one of those.

Almost every year, the family heads to Aman Park, just west of Grand Rapids, for a hike through the woods.  After our adventures, Dad gets KFC, which we usually eat at the park.  One year, Dad forgot utensils.  This wasn’t a problem for the former Boy Scout, who was in his element.  Dad had us eat the chicken first and use the bones as spoons.  Every year since, he threatens to do the same, claiming it’s a tradition even though it only happened once.  Using chicken bones as utensils is one tradition this city girl can do without!

Hiking adventures with our family is just that: an adventure.  We never stay on the main trails.  Ranger Dad and Jeffrey of the Jungle usually find smaller, lesser traveled trails for us to explore.  The trails are over-grown and often disappear, sending Jeffrey of the Jungle off to find a new and semi-passable route.

This year was no different.  We spent just under three hours exploring the forest, climbing fallen trees, admiring wildflowers, watching birds and trying to find our way back to the car.   It was a wonderful time of familial bonding, and one of the best presents we could give to Mom.

My favorite part of this year’s hike was when we lost the boys.  It wasn’t actually losing Ranger Dad and Jeffrey of the Jungle that I enjoyed: it was finding them.  You see, the girls (me, Mom, Rita and Ang) were at the top of a hill.  We had just emerged from one of those barely-there trails and the boys were nowhere to be seen.  We stood there for a while trying to figure out which way they went.  We were discussing it for a few minutes when Ang handed me her water bottle.

“Hold this,” she said.  She folded her hands, put her thumbs to her lips, and blew.  Out came a loud, clear imitation of a Whippoorwill.  I threw Ang’s water bottle to Mom and grabbed my camera.  Such amazing talent had to be recorded!!  Check it out:

We eventually found the guys.  It took a while, though: Jeffrey had to figure out how to answer the call.  As we continued to make our way through the forest, we all attempted to learn (or re-learn) the call of the Whippoorwill.  Some of us did better than others, but no one can hold a candle to the master caller, Angelica!!

The car was eventually found, and our KFC dinner eventually eaten.  (Yes, I actually ate fast food for the first time in three years!  But only a little!)  And Mother dearest enjoyed the family tradition as did we all.

Swiss Family Schwartz

If so, I think we have something here that you might like!

The Office Deadline! Enjoy and feel free to leave your comments (no haters, please!). Each comment will go to a good cause that helps to feed the egos of PALE GURLS. Thank you.

North Shields Pond Natural Area
4.24.09          1:00-1:40 p.m.
Partly cloudy, breezy, 70 degrees

Great Blue Heron, 1
Canada Goose, 4
Mallard, 5
Red-winged Blackbird, 30+
American Robin, 5
Northern Flicker, 2
Black-capped Chickadee, 1
Mourning Dove, 1
Meadowlark, 0

Ahhh yes, the meadowlark. Well it goes like this. Today Z’nah and I went for a walk around North Shields Pond. It is so wonderful to be able to take a canine companion out into the wild with me. The few occasions I’ve taken Clementine, I spend the whole time trying to keep her from eating rocks as I shout warnings to strangers about guarding their nostrils. I’m so busy pulling rocks out of her maw that I miss all the wildlife. Not so with Z’nah! She’s a dream to hike with. But I digress. I was ambling along the path when I heard a meadowlark. I knew it was a meadowlark because I diligently listen to my bird song tapes as I drive. I whipped out my bins and spent a while peering at the surrounding field and fences. Nothing. We walked a little farther. Again with the song! This time though, it was followed by a distinctly non-bird beep. And that’s when I remembered that I had recently changed my ring-tone to a meadowlark recording. Incredibly embarrassing. Z’nah pretended not to notice but she did walk several yards in front me all the way back to the car.

Bluebird House

The birds are returning in full force.  We’ve seen all sorts including robins, red winged blackbirds, cow birds, finches and jays, all squabbling and squawking at the feeders. The killdeer are scouting the fields for good places to lay their eggs, their shrill cries eerily coming from ground level. We have two pigeons that have faithfully returned for several years despite the fact that the cat has snatched up their progeny time and time again.  (This sort of population control is actually a good thing – otherwise we’d be overrun.) We hung the bluebird boxes on the side of the barn hoping to entice a pair or two to nest. I’ve kept my eye out for the returnof the kestrel, but nothing yet. When I hear her predatory call I’ll know Spring has a firm hold!

Canadian Geese

We never have more than a pair of geese land in the pond at a time. They are quite elegant, despite being noisy and messy. We paused to watch them for a while, but then reality set in and we sent the dog down to chase them off. She pumped her short little dachshund legs as hard as she could, but she never really had a chance at getting close. With an irritated honk-honk, they flapped away. If we hadn’t run them off they would have settled in, eventually decimating any tender, green shoot in the garden. Last year they devoured my green beans when we weren’t looking. 

Frog Eggs

Looks like we’ll have plentyof frogs this year. The pond has always been frog heaven, to my delight. I adore frogs & toads. We have bullfrogs, leopard frogs, toads, tree-frogs and peepers. There is even a strange turquoise variety – we usually get two or three of them a year. (And when I say they are blue, I mean BLUE!) By mid-May you can sit down by the garden at dusk and barely have a conversation over the singing and chirping and croaking!

If you just listen, Nature provides the most beautiful of music.

Last post was Sunday. Not good enough. All my blog-juice was used up putting two posts on Polandian, busy at work and other excuses.

I wish someone would invent a device that recorded your thoughts in text so I could just cut & paste here. I do genuinely have many “must remember to write about that” moments but by the time I get here they are lost in the synapses never to be thought again.

Random thoughts from this week:

• How amazing is surgery! There ws this TV programme showing a heart operation where they not only put the patient on a heart-lung bypass machine but also drained her body completely of blood and dropped her body temperature down so low that her brain activity readings were so flat you could pronounce her dead. Then they just pumped the blood back in, warmed her up and she was right as rain! Amazing. If I come back again I want to be a surgeon doing tricky stuff like that.
• Why do many Polish taxi drivers fee they have a right to block the street while their passenger pays and leaves? Watched one moron today block ul. Zlota for a few minutes when he only needed to move another 20m and park at a taxi rank. When he eventually moved off he immediately did an illegal U-turn and then went off to mess with drivers in other parts of the capital.
• Why do I find the whole John Paul II death thing so moving when I’m not Polish nor Catholic? TV showing various progs because of Easter.
• How genuinely friendly almost all Polish people are when it comes to children. Zosia was playing with some friends here at home and before very long she’s invited for a bonfire next to the lake, fed with potatoes and sausages roasted on the fire and generally looked after by some, more or less, complete strangers. I’m sure there are bad people in Poland but I’m far happier leaving her to go off with strange families here than I would be in the UK.
• We had an awaria here today with the wod-kan system. There are two pumps to move sewage from our estate up to the public sewer and thanks to a sweater blocking a pipe they both went kaput last night. Being the furthest away from the problem we didn’t notice anything unusual this morning but noticed poor water pressure and then lights and action around a manhole on the far side of the pond. We wandered over like nosey-parkers and it appears they’ve been having fun. The workers were dispatched at 03:00 to get to Poznan, the only place in Poland where a similar pump could be bought. They got one and have been fitting the thing most of the day spending hours down a stinking hole on Good Friday! The water supply was switched off while they did it. They got it finished at around 21:00 and now everything is fine, even better pressure than before in fact. The whole exercise was done in a very Polish ‘golden hand’ way with people lowering the new very heavy pump above the head of the guy in the pit with what looked like a not very well tested device consisting of bits of string, elastic bands, somebody’s trouser belt….! Then it was wired the wrong way so it was sucking instead of pushing. But hey, it got done on a Good Friday and cost peanuts to fix beyond the price of the new pump itself. Would it happen that easy anywhere else?
• Andrew at work keeps coming up against these “Welcome to Poland!” moments. Today it was the failure to change the tyres and the PIT. He’s driving to Szczecin for Easter and was supposed to have his tyres changed to summer ones a few days ago. This was cancelled but then an emergency session organised for today. Of course, the tyres that had arrived from Łodz were the wrong ones so he’s stuck with winter tyres until next Friday. These ‘emergency fixes’ have a tendency not to work out here. His next question was what to do with the PIT form now it’s completed. His idea being to ‘pop down’ to the urząd skarb, hand over the document along with the money he owes and Bob’s your uncle. He hasn’t quite grasped the fact that you just don’t mess with urząds unless you have absolutely no other options available. He’ll be posting it next week and bank transferring the dosh.
• Why is our cat growing gonads the size of coconuts and what kind of clang are they going to make when they hit the dish after the snip?
• Why can’t people realise that saying “You can leave when you’ve finished everything you need to do” on a Good Friday is exactly the same as saying “Down tools and go home immediately whatever is going on”.
• How lovely is Warsaw when there’s no traffic!
• What could be wrong with our friend who’s having loads of very serious medical tests this Easter and not joining us in Mazury? Epilepsy has been mentioned, but it’s not that, so what is it and will it get better?
• Will another colleague find some employment soon after losing his job at the end of March? He’s got a family of 5 kids to feed and no matter how much rationalisation you do it still doesn’t feel any better.
• Well, one more salary to go at the rate in my contract and then the benefit of the lower tax rate in Poland is transferred graciously over to my employers bank account instead of mine. As for any contracted bonuses, well you kiss those goodbye too. We should all be grateful to have a job at all I suppose. Seems the only way to guarantee a bonus these days is to be one of the bankers that caused all this bloody mess in the first place. They get bonuses because if they don’t the company might “lose its most talented people”. How demeaning is it to know that you’re less important and talented than a useless banker?
• An article I read said that in the UK, the gap between amount lent by banks and that coming into banks from “normal people” in 2001 was zero. By 2007 it had reached something like 740 billion pounds!! The gap, effectively 40% of all money loaned, was being made up by money coming from shady foreign institutions somewhat akin to loan sharks, although there was a suggestion that the money actually originates from the savings of less debt hungry nations like the Chinese. This is the money fountain that has dried up and one reason why everyone is in such deep du-du.
• Am I going to get my RICS case studies and ‘continuous learning’ charts done in time? As I sit here I’m already 2 days late and I feel bad about it. I’m hoping everyone will be too busy over Easter to worry about it and by the time they come back I’ll have them done. I have no choice to be honest so it looks like I know what I’m doing on Easter Monday.
• The sounds of the birds in the mornings is amazing! Really noisy and because half of them are trying to attract a mate the range of sounds is just incredible. I’m really peed off that I’m not able to identify from calls. Not even close.
• Will I EVER find a place in Warsaw I can buy industrial sized bags of peanuts for the bird feeders!!!! This is NOT a country where people like spending money on feeding wild animals unless they are basement cats. Best I can find are sets of nets with two pouches of peanuts and three grease and seed balls. No damned good to me – I need at least a 10kg bag of peanuts and not at edible style prices.
• Are we going to get frogs here or not? Ideal conditions.
• Is this the strangest set of tags for one post, ever?
• Will this list never end……….

I can’t remember exactly when I fell in love.  Maybe on those long walks with my Grandmother, or maybe when I’d climb into the swing in our back yard and pretend I was soaring into the sky.  I know that when I was eight and I’d finally talked my parents into letting me get a parakeet, I was already wild about birds.    It’s hard to imagine that any one of us wouldn’t love birds because they seem to me to represent all that’s good about life. 

Today I’m still an avid bird watcher, although not the kind that carries a pair of binoculars and a notebook with me everywhere.  I just enjoy watching them but I’ve learned a few easy ways to identify them which I’d like to share with you, along with some of my personal bird favorites.

Did you know that bird watching is the largest spectator sport in America?  There are over 800 species of birds in North America and 350 of those have been recorded in Montana alone. 

I have travelled to many states throughout my life time and have been fortunate to have seen many different kinds of birds.   An all time favorite of mine is the Northern Cardinal which is not only a brilliant red crested bird but sings a beautiful song, “what-cheer, what-cheer.”  That’s a poor imitation but I hope you get the idea. How can anyone get up on the wrong side of the bed when the first thing you hear in the morning is its cheery song or look out the window and see its bright red against a backdrop of a drab winter landscape. 

Another bird I love to watch is the Brown Pelican found mainly along our southern coastlines.  A 50” bird with an amazing 84” wing span, the pelican is an absolute marvel of engineering.  It flaps and glides low over the surf and will suddenly fold up its wings in sections and catapult itself into the shallow surf, only to resurface seconds later with a fish hanging from its huge bill.  It deftly angles it all the way in, raises its head and swallows it whole. 

Last year at this time I was in Hawaii and while I was hiking at the far end of the island of Oahu, part of the National Seashore, I was lucky enough to see a Black-footed Albatross sitting on her nest.  This great seabird, with its 80” wing span, may spend months completely out of sight of land, coming to shore only to raise its young.  It not only tolerated my taking its picture but did a quick head scratch, allowing me to get a quick peek of its eggs. 

The Wild Turkey is another favorite of mine for two reasons:  It offers a sense of history, as we know it was here when our first settlers arrived from Europe and long before that provided food for Native Americans.  It’s also fun to watch the Tom in the spring when he struts around with his tail feathers displayed trying desperately to attract a female. 

If you’re like me you’ve seen a lot of birds and often wondered what they are.  There are several things to look for on an unfamiliar bird.   The first is size.  Compare it with a bird you are familiar with.  Is it smaller than a robin, larger than a finch, etc.?

Then consider its surroundings.  Is it in the water, wading or swimming, soaring in circles high in the air, or perhaps on your bird feeder?  For instance, if it’s climbing a tree in jerks using its tail as a brace, it’s probably a woodpecker or if it’s going down head first it’s most likely a nuthatch.

Try to get a good look at the bill.  It may be small and fine like warbler, short and stout like a seed-cracking grosbeak, dagger-shaped like a tern or hook-tipped like a bird of prey. 

Now you’re really beginning to narrow down the field.  Look at the color and field marks.  Most birds cannot be identified by color alone so look for spots, streaks or a plain breast.   Then look for tail markings and rump patches.  The Northern Flicker, for example, has a bright white rump.

Check out the eyes.  Some birds have stripes above, below or through the eye, or a combination of those.  Others may have eye rings, crown stripes or chin stripes.  These are especially helpful in identifying many small songbirds. 

Lastly, look for wing bars.  They may be single or double and may or may not be prominent. 

Birds can also be identified by their bird calls so be sure to listen for them.  The Robin asks “Cheerily?  Cheer up, cheerily”; the Barred Owl says “Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you-all?” while the Blue Jay’s call is sometimes loud and harsh as if it were screaming, “Thief!”  You have to love the Olive-sided fly catcher’s call, “Quick!  Three Beers!”  The Tufted Titmouse calls “Peter, peter, peter”, and of course the little Chickadee endears any bird lover with its “Chickadee dee dee!” 

There are many other ways to identify birds but you can go a long way using some of the methods I’ve described.  A good field guide is also a must.  But never get discouraged if you can’t identify a bird, because you can ALWAYS enjoy it and, after all, isn’t that the point?

Well I’m back from my foray into the world of co-dependence treatment. The actual treatment sessions were this past weekend but I was so stressed out for a week beforehand that I haven’t had the gumption to blog.

Anyway, I have good news. I saw some birds while in Estes Park and I shall now report on them.

Bird the first: crow.

Bird the second: scrub jay.

Bird the third: pygmy nuthatch.

Bird the fourth: elk.

Bird the third was definitely my favorite, not only because it contains the word “pygmy” but also because I had to work to identify it. My sister, dad and I were walking under some ponderosa pines, as we are sometimes wont to do, and we saw some little puffballs flitting about overhead. They were about 4 inches from head to tail and had noticeably long beaks. I have observed a pair of red-breasted nuthatches before and the movements were quite similar so that was my first clue. When we returned to our lodgings for the evening, I whipped out my bird book and proceeded to interrogate my family about whether the birds we saw were more of a buttery hue or a dun hue or a rusty hue or a buff hue or a camel hue or a tan hue… at any rate, when I looked up for confirmation they were nowhere to be seen. Testy testy. So I began to interrogate the dogs about whether the song was more of a pip-pip or a peep-peep or a chip-chip or a cheep-cheep… and when I looked up I noticed that even my canine colleagues were gone.

After much internal debate, I have concluded thus: the birds had a yellowish breast and went pip-pip.

There are three nuthatch species living in the Rockies. The red-breasted nuthatch, the white-breasted nuthatch, and the pygmy nuthatch. Looking at the pictures made it clear that we saw the pygmy. Which is totally adorable.

The pygmy nuthatch is quite social, noisy and small. So social and noisy and small that one must wonder if they are not related to the Boston Terrier. The pygmy nuthatch roosts with up to 100 others at night and from what I’ve read, has never been observed roosting alone. They eat mostly insects and pine seeds, using crevices in bark to hold the seeds while they peck them open. Something that tickles me about pygmy nuthatches (as if I could pick just one thing!) is that they employ a nanny service. Fledgling males from seasons past come to help raise their parents’ new broods.

And last but not least, pygmy nuthatches are listed as an indicator species regarding the health of ponderosa pine forests. With all of the logging around, it is apparently much less common to see these sweet little birds. When I read that and realized I had seen an uncommon bird, I got a little spring to my step that boosted me into my next round in the trenches of resentment therapy. Pip-pip to all.