Wildflowers on a beautiful morning

The following wildflower ID's courtesy of Roger Tory Peterson's Peterson's First Guides: Wildflowers.

Forget-me-not

Dame's rocket--thought it was a phlox, but it only has four petals

Common blue violet

Common strawberry

Daisy fleabane

Wild parsnip or Golden Alexander? I can't tell.

Is this a tiger swallowtail?

Wild columbine

Common buttercup

Mystery flower--anyone?

With apologies to Alice Walker, in my mind, cows make a landscape more beautiful.

Eastern bluebird--I was too slow to snap her while she was feeding her babies, then she flew up to the wire. I waited, but she was more patient than I, and I figured she might be too shy to feed them with me watching so I drove on.

Home again, home again, jiggedy jig

Watch this space--for yummy pears!


After my amazing two days birding in the PA oil region, I’m home. It’s a strikingly sunny day, with a cool breeze making the leaves dance and the grass sway in waves. So much happened while I was away, it seems. The pear, tamarack, and lilac came into full feather:



The lawn turned from a yellow-spotted dandelion field to a white-puff-filled seed factory:


The garden seeds awoke and found the sun:
Baby spinach:
Tiny cilantro:
Sunflowers for the birds:
Green leaf lettuce:

Green beans:
The morning glories that will camouflage the fence around the veggie garden:

But many things remain the same. I was awakened by the noise of the raptors -- the cats -- jumping to the window to watch the birds, chasing each other up and down the stairs, and begging for their breakfast at 6:30a.m. By the oh-ka-LEEEEE and the crazy sora’s call on the marsh. By Mr. Cardinal, demanding I fill the feeders. By the downy, complaining about how the grackles and red-wing blackbirds ate all his suet. By Niblet running and jumping around, bumping and chinning my ankles as I scoop his pellets and fill his hay manger for breakfast.

Most important of all, though, Kat is beside me, asking for her morning coffee and snuggle. I’m truly home again.

The Oil Region (Warbler/Oriole/insert any bird species here) Birding Festival

This weekend will go down in history as the two most amazing days in my birding life. How can I possible tell you all that happened, describe each beauty-filled moment, recount the singular thrills of a morning birding with a true naturalist and birder? I guess I’ll tell it by the day and try to include everything relevant. Here's the story of my time at the Oil Region First Annual Birding Festival.

THURSDAY
I left for the Oil Fest around 6 p.m., after discovering that the tripod people had again sent me only a head and no tripod. For the second time. No matter, I told Kat. I have Joe Spla’s camera and lenses; I’ll be fine. Besides, the most important thing is to see the birds; pics are secondary.

I’d have to remind myself of this mantra later. Many times.

The drive to Titusville, PA, was breathtaking. I had a CD that Hillel had given me--Dan Gibson’s Appalachian Mountain Suite. The soothing music and background of bird songs and calls proved the perfect mood-setter for a drive through the Pennsylvania mountains, valleys, and forests to a birding festival, with the setting sun painting everything gold. Thanks, Hillel!

I arrived at the Cross Creek Resort near Titusville, home base for the festival, around 8:30p.m. I’d missed the “Flock and Mingle” with Julie Zickefoose, but no matter; I’d see her in the morning for the five-hour bird walk through Oil Creek State Park. The festival’s coordinator was kind enough to help me secure a room at the resort, and I went to settle in. Of course I was too excited to sleep, but I finally nodded off while watching a CSI rerun. I’m sure they cracked the case.

FRIDAY
The alarm woke me at 5a.m.--ugh. I showered and dressed in my prearranged outfit, loaded my gear, and headed for the park. On the way, I had to maneuver around a huge porcupine on the park road; life mammal! A good omen.

I said “blog!” to Zick as she approached and like pen pals meeting for the first time, we immediately knew a bit of each other’s story and were able to talk with ease. I prepped my gear in the cold pre-dawn light (shorts and t-shirt were inadequate cover for this chilly morning), and we began our walk.

I’d feared I might tire from a five-hour walk, but in the end we only walked about 200 yards at both sites we visited. The warblers were everywhere, and they came to us; all we had to was listen and look, as Julie ID’d species after species just by its song. My peak moments--besides the incredible number of birds we saw:
--I ID’d a Northern Flicker in the near-darkness, and Zick complimented my good old Leupold binocs.
--We saw a gorgeous little waterfall, though the darkness made my photo a bit motion-blurred:

--I was first to spot the wood thrush up in a tree so Zick could show the rest and get the scope on it. What a beautiful song! It's like the Janis Joplin of birds, somehow able to produce chords instead of single notes.
--The other birders were great, a mix of beginners and more experienced birders, so we were able to help one another.
--Zick showed me a red admiral butterfly, a moment that would make it into her keynote speech that night after dinner.
-- I didn’t get poison ivy!

Along the way, Joe Spla’s camera had a dead-battery meltdown, I didn’t even try to digiscope or digibinoc, and I nearly froze to death. Still--it was by far the best day of my life that didn’t involve Kat. Julie said that’s what she liked to hear. True to form, Zick pointed out not only birds but butterflies, plants, and flowers, identifying and telling the us the reason for their presence. The Science Chimp was in her element, and she had an attentive audience to appreciate her magic.

Julie on the trail:

Bluets:

Speedwell, a beautiful but invasive garden escapee:

Ajuga everywhere, another escapee from a garden:

A beautiful maroon trillium:

Now to the list of birds; it was interesting how few common birds we saw. Maybe that’s because Julie took care to ID the biggies for us, most of which were lifers (indicated by an L) for me.

Canada goose
Wood duck (L)
Common merganser (L)
Red-breasted merganser
Turkey vulture
Red-tailed hawk
Mourning dove
Yellow-billed Cuckoo (L)
Downy woodpecker
Least flycatcher (L)
Pileated woodpecker -- heard (L)
Yellow-throated vireo (L)
Warbling vireo (L)
Red-eyed vireo (L)
American crow
Tree swallow
Northern rough-winged swallow (L)
Blue-gray gnatcatcher (L)
Veery (L)
Wood thrush (L)
Gray catbird
Blue-winged warbler (L)
Tennessee warbler (L)
Northern parula (L)
Yellow warbler (L)
Magnolia warbler -- heard (L)
Yellow-rumped warbler (L)
Bay-breasted warbler (L)
Blackpoll warbler (L)
Cerulean warbler (L)
American redstart (L)
Northern waterthrush -- heard (L)
Common yellowthroat (L)
Canada warbler (L)
Scarlet tanager -- only a glimpse but I saw him! (L)
Northern cardinal
Rose-breasted grosbeak
Chipping sparrow
Swamp sparrow -- heard
Red-winged blackbird
Baltimore oriole
American goldfinch

23 lifebirds in five hours. Needless to say, we did the Life Bird Wiggle® at the end of our walk; Julie took a photo. One of the birders was kind enough to get a shot of me (and my hat-hair) with Zick:


What a morning! I didn’t get many photos, but here are a few more from the walk:
There’s a Canada warbler in here, I swear--it's that yellow blob in the center!


Oil Creek, 7:48a.m.:

The view from the road:

Rose-breasted grosbeak at the feeder by the ranger station:

Uh... a warbler of some sort; I can't remember what this was, and the photo's too grainy for ID:

A little froggy:

At lunch, which Julie was kind enough to let me tag along to, with some of Julie's friends who were attending the festival, we all agreed that they need to change the name of this bird festival for next year. Insert a sexy bird in there--or any bird!--and you'll attract more people! After discussing the merits and >dangers of cheese, we ended our lunch and I attended two of the lecture sessions. The first was “Introduction to Warblers” with Bob Mulvihill, the Field Ornithology Projects Coordinator at the Powdermill Avian Research Center. His important point was that most of the confusion surrounding the ID of warblers results from trying to ID females, not from any difficulty telling male warblers apart. He showed stunning photos taken during banding sessions, so the detail was amazing. What a great job that must be -- spending your days (and nights, it turns out!) studying birds, learning their habits and life cycles, documenting every phase, every molt, every bird. Wow.

Next, I heard Dr. John Karian talk about nature photography and the great photo ops in the Oil Region. He showed some beautiful images he’d taken and talked about how he got them: getting up and into position well before sunrise, getting his gear ready to snap, and then just waiting for the moments to happen. Another amazing job to have, though the getting up early and the patience are not really my strong suits.... He talked about some technical aspects of photography, but mainly about his experiences capturing these images. Great stuff.

By this point, I’d been up for ten hours, hadn’t had any coffee, and was feeling pretty rough. Still, I wanted to get some photos, so I decided to go out and get new batteries and more film for Joe Spla’s camera then head back to the park. I made it to the batteries and film, then went back to the hotel room, where I realized I was just too exhausted and needed a nap. Thank goodness I’d gone ahead and booked a second night at the resort, instead of just the one I’d planned on.

I woke up late but made it to the banquet in time to eat and have some coffee before Julie began her presentation. And what a presentation--it was like watching her blog come to life. Many times she almost brought me to tears, and many times I laughed out loud. The whole time, though, I thought about life and nature from her point of view as well as my own. She read from her book, told stories of her childhood and how and why she became an artist and an observer of nature, and showed photos of many of her artworks. She even managed to sneak in some Chet Baker pics--sweet! We laughed about that after her talk, and she autographed a book for me and one for my mom. It’ll make a nice Mother’s Day present for my mom, a lover of nature and birds.

I went to bed after the dinner, but the banging headache I’d been fighting since Thursday decided to launch a major offensive. I finally got to sleep about 4a.m., woke up around noon, checked out of the resort, and started for home. I’m a tired but incredibly happy birder, enriched not just by my first bird festival but by the gift of Julie’s presence there.

Geeked-up and ready to bird

Okay, I'm getting really really excited about the birding festival tomorrow. I've got all my gear (and a friend's gear) in the car. I can hardly sit still right now. I can't wait to leave!

Let's go through the checklist--if you think of anything I missed, please comment!

PACKING
I packed light--only jeans or shorts for the walk tomorrow (don't know if it'll be too cool or brushy for shorts), my Chief Seattle t-shirt for luck, my Timberlands, some cushy socks, and my South Carolina cap. (nothing lucky about that, other than I like it) All this is in my backpack. I also remembered to bring my travelling bag full of toiletries, prescription meds, etc. I think I have everything.

GEAR
1. Nikon Coolpix 4800--battery charged up overnight, plus charger just in case
2. Meade Condor scope--in its soft shoulderbag rather than the hard case
3. Bad-ass Birding Bag--the one Kat got me in Cape May--contents are my Stokes field guide, Identify Yourself (which maybe Zick will autograph, as she did the illustrations), Leupold binoculars, camera, notepad. Room for water bottle.
4. my brand new Slik 504QF tripod, which will only be included IF it is waiting for me at the UPS store where I get my mail. Otherwise, I have a back-up:
5. Nikon super-fancy camera with giganto-lens and teleconverter (non-digital, however), borrowed from my friend Joe Spla (like Joe Pa, only not the head coach of the PSU Nittany Lions and not 80+ years old)

TRIP PLANNING
I have downloaded Mapquest directions, a full tank of gas, all the brochures and materials from the birding festival, a list of hotels in Titusville, PA, where I can stay (I was going to go with Niki and Ian and stay with Niki's parents, but they had to go to Indiana for a funeral this week). I think I shouldn't have any problems getting there. I also called ahead to okay my late registration tomorrow morning (before the bird walk with Zick, so like at 5:30am!).

I leave after work to get Kat from school, check UPS for my tripod, then drop her at Niki's, where she'll feed their kitty Murry and drive Niki's truck home. I will then hop on I-80 and head for the Oil Region, the valley that changed the world!

I brought along my copy of Solzhenitzyn's Warning to the West, which is a fascinating book. That way, I can read a little to calm myself down tonight, so I'll get some sleep -- I hope. Then I'll be up at 4:30 or so, to get to the Cross Creek (or Crick, as they called it on the phone) Resort to pick up my registration materials, then head over to the Oil Creek State Park's Important Birding Area for my walk with Julie Zickefoose!

Disaster on the marsh

This afternoon while I was sitting outside on the back lawn studying for my trig final, a group of birders appeared on the marsh, trying to get more birds for the local Birding Cup competition. Roana and her group are also participating, but they chose to hit a different marsh, so this was a nice surprise. I didn't get a picture, but they were on #135 when I asked them, and I saw the leader raise his arms in triumph three or four more times, so they were cruising. He told me they'd seen a marsh wren and a snipe already and were looking for rails. I'm sure they found them, as I've seen at least four or five Virginia rails out there each day I've looked from the porch with my scope.

After studying for about three hours, I couldn't resist going out on the marsh to find and possibly photograph some beauties. I checked the scope and spotted two rails and a sora from the porch, so I figured I'd have a great time. I headed out on the road beside the marsh and almost immediately spotted the bittern!

See him there? This was scoped through my binoculars; here's the full digital zoom:

Not great, but it's documentation, right?

So I got really excited, marked the location in my mind and got some landmarks, and set out to find him up close. I headed out on the small path that runs along the shallow little ponds in the front area of the marsh first, hoping to see a sora or a rail. No luck. However, I saw this:

This should've served as a bad omen, but I chalked it up to the circle of life. Not sure what or who had finished this bird off, but I didn't worry about it too much.

I then headed back to the big path beside Long Pond, looking through my binoculars to try to find anything good, and that's when I saw him: a dog. A big dog. A big yellow wolf-looking, horse-sized dog. Loose on the marsh. He was back toward the creek, and he disappeared quickly into the brush back there, so I figured he was accompanying some fisherman on the creek. I don't really like dogs, so I was kind-of glad he disappeared. I moved on.

I saw a little muskrat:

Shortly after I snapped this picture, he flipped and splashed and went underwater, no doubt miffed at my stealing his soul with my camera.

I kept looking through the binocs for the bittern place, and that's when I witnessed the disaster. That damned dog was attacking a Canada goose nest, rolling the eggs off it and trying to bite them. I ran at him and screamed "No!" and he got scared and ran away. But the damage was done.

Mother Goose (I guess) was honking her head off, and very soon, Father Goose showed up.

They both honked and honked, and suddenly there were more geese coming, landing close by and just sitting. I thought they might be standing guard.

The geese were on a little island, and there was at least 15 feet of water, the depth of which I could only guess, between me and their nest. I couldn't even help them by moving the eggs back onto the mound; I couldn't do a thing but watch their agony.

During my screaming and running at the dog, I spooked the bittern, who flew away. I managed a photo:


By this point, I wondered if perhaps my presence so close to the nest might be upsetting the geese, so I walked away. I hope they can somehow push the eggs back onto their little mound. That stupid dog. And that stupid dog owner, whoever he or she may be, leaving him loose on the marsh.

On my way back, I heard the bittern several times, but I never saw him again. I did, however, see this sign of life:

That's the tree swallow I photographed a few weeks ago, at the same nest box! I hope they have a little clutch of eggs in there, and I hope they raise lots of young.

Back on the road home in the gathering darkness of sunset, I saw two neon orange sparks flashing through the air.

The Baltimore orioles are back! Last year, they raised a baby here; now they're back!

I guess the circle of life really does go on. Still, I can't help but feel terrible for that family of Canada geese; I just hope they can lay another brood. I checked my Stokes guide: ". . . the number of broods a bird has in a season. . . is marked by a B." Dangit, the B under Canada goose has a 1 after it. One brood. "Shown is the number of successful broods a species will attempt in a normal season. It does not include cases of renestings after failed broods.(my emphasis)"

Maybe they'll be able to scoop their eggs back onto the mound.

Or maybe, just maybe, they're out there right now, trying again.

Perhaps I should play some romantic music.

Found a Flicker Feather

I found a flicker feather
not far from the fence today.

That's your tongue-twister for the day, folks.

It's amazing what you find when you're paying attention. Outside one of the back doors at work, a robin has built a beautiful little nest in a small pine tree; it's so low that even I (at 5'1") could look into the nest when Mother was away this afternoon:

I have always loved robin's eggs; who doesn't? That blue is so beautiful. These eggs are being well-tended by Mother, who's rarely away except (I imagine) to get a meal.

My birding friend at work has been seeing all sorts of warblers around the walking trail out behind the building; he's out there early in the morning. Unfortunately, all my untrained eyes ever see during my lunchtime walks is robins and starlings. I've heard some interesting sounds out there, but I haven't seen any warblers yet. I did see those brown creepers, though--that was something!

He's going to the Magee Marsh birding event the same weekend I'll be in Franklin, PA, for the birding festival where Julie Zickefoose will be. I'm only going to the early-morning birding walk with her, then a thing on nature photography, and another thing on creating better backyard habitats for birds. I wish I could do the dinner, the mingle, etc. but I just don't have that much time. Still, just the birding walk alone is going to make the three-hour drive soooo worth it!

On my way to get Kat at school today, I performed a quickstop highway pullover that would've made Mary proud--to get a photo of this hawk:

Is this a red-tail? Here he's scratching his head with those talons, yet miraculously not scalping himself:


I also have some photos from earlier this week that you should see. First, we had a killdeer in Neighbor Ed's driveway yesterday morning; look at those freaky red eyes:

He was just screaming his little head off. Glad I wasn't trying to sleep.

Also found an interesting butterfly in the garden the other day:

That is a butterfly, right? He's kinda furry like a moth, but I think it's butterfly. At any rate, I checked several butterfly sites but couldn't find this guy. What is this, oh nature people out there?

Our lilac is just about to burst into bloom:

Thanks to my study of American poetry in college, lilacs will always remind me of another time when America was at war. Of course, back then, we had a real leader at the helm, not "The Commander Guy." Is that like GI Joe, only without the kung-fu grip?

We've had a lot of chipping sparrows at the feeder during the last few days; I love their garish red caps and '40s movie-star eyeliner. Here they're sitting in our just-bursting-with-new-needles tamarack:


There's a bunch of these sweet little daffodils (?) blooming just beyond the fence on the marsh:


Mr. House Finch posed for a portrait yesterday afternoon in the tamarack:


The view from the road over the marsh to the hills beyond: