A while ago Mimic had suggested we get out there, brave the cold and chase some birds. I was beginning to agree with him. Of course we’d have to bundle up in layers, take an umbrella with us and eat breakfast before we go. Nonetheless, we knew an adventure await us if we could just get ourselves in the car and out the door. “I’m going to see if Hawkeye needs some help. Let me know if you see anything else.”
Snowfeather and Mimic had continued to survey the neighborhood from the upstairs window, so I wasn’t surprised that upon my return I found them both with binocular pressed against their eyes and fixed on a spot across the street behind our house. “There’s another,” said Snowfeather. “On Bird Tree.”
“Bird Tree?” I asked.
“Mimic spotted it. It’s perched high on the tree, up among the dead branches.”
“Mimic.” I looked him in the eye. “What is she talking about?”
“The bird on the tree over there, the really tall one. Not the one with the leaves, the other one next to that one. The one with the dead branches at the top. Well not the tippity-top but just below there. That’s where the bird is.”
A Cold Northern.
Apparently I was the only one in the conversation that didn’t know that ‘bird tree’ was the seasonal densely leaved and comparably very tall tree across the street, where in times past birds have come to roost, nest, raise their young and do whatever else birds do.
At last, I spotted it too. “Is that a Mockingbird?”
“Yes,” said Mimic. “A Northern Mockingbird.”
“He looks cold. All fluffed out like that.”
Snowfeather agreed. “I guess we’d be cold too if we were out there.”
And we would soon find out how cold being out in the cold would be.
From the window on the second floor we searched the rooftops and telephone poles behind our home once more. “Whoa! What was that?” I said loudly.
Mimic briefly let his eyes leave his notes. “What? Where?”
“I don’t know. I saw something black fly by. – Whoa, there’s another one!”
“Black?” asked Mimic. He answered his own question, jotting his words as he spoke. “Probably a Great-tailed Grackle. They’re not really black though.”
“Oh. Well they have a great tail though, right?” I asked jokingly.
He dismissed my question and answered his. “Yes, that’s what they were. See over there. They’re on that telephone line above that house.”
“Yes, I see them. Have you ever seen a ‘not so great’ tailed grackle?”
Great-tails?
“No.” My joke fell flat. “But some male grackles lose part of their tail when fighting other males.” He continued. “See there’s a female next to him, she’s a little smaller and browner.”
The birds had come closer. With my telephoto lens in hand, I zoomed in. The morning sky was a bluish grey. You could almost see the air outside; still, cold and wet. I framed my shot, hoping for a Kodak moment.
Click – I took the shot. Click – I took another.
The first bird of the year to be photographed was none other than the Great-tailed Grackle. The birds that had resembled pepper flakes, just moments ago while much further away, had now been clearly identified, captured on camera and counted.
The rapping of a ‘shave and a haircut’ knock on my bedroom door ended my late morning slumber. I knew its source and I knew its intent. It was meant as a call to action, a reveille, the bugle call at sunrise. Wake up it’s the first day of a very Big Year!
I cracked a window blind, preparing a reply to the request for departure I was sure to hear. The pane felt cold. Tiny water droplets rolled down the outside of the glass. Fog lingered in the creek bed at the other side of the cul-de-sac. I expected it wouldn’t be the best weather for spotting birds, freezing rain had been the overnight forecast, so seeing the fog was a welcomed relief. For birders, cold drizzle isn’t the ‘end all’ and light rain is like ‘water off a ducks back’.
Mimic stood ready on the other side of the door, binocular around his neck and fully outfitted for his birding adventure. “Come on, Beaker. Hurry! I’ve already seen two birds out my window.”
The flock of Great-tailed Grackle appeared as flakes of pepper huddling atop the furthest telephone pole in sight. “There’s a dove out there too.”
“Really?” I replied, readying my binocular.
“I’m not sure what kind though. At this distance it’s too hard to tell. Could be a Mourning Dove, could be a Common Ground Dove, I really don’t know.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said. “I’m going to get my camera.” Still a bit groggy, I wasn’t sure I would know the difference if the birds were two feet away. Always ready to provide the identifications and helpful facts, I was glad to have Mimic at my side.
Snowfeather had joined Mimic when I returned. Quiet as usual, she didn’t say a word. Mimic introduced her to the birds, as I prepared my telephoto lens. Birds are his passion and he was ready to throw on his coat and go chasing after these ‘new’ but often seen birds. Snowfeather and I weren’t quite so anxious and Hawkeye had yet to emerge from her nice, warm nest. So for now, we’d wait for the birds to come to us.
After a minute or two, the three of us made our way downstairs. Wishing a fine-feathered-friend would fly in for a closer view, we scouted the backyard. A moment later Snowfeather spoke. “There,” she said.
Snowfeather’s Dove.
“Where?” asked Mimic.
“There on the cliffs.”
Terraced limestone walls stretch across the backyards of our community. They’re only about twelve feet high, but we call them ‘the cliffs’. The bird was in our neighbor’s yard on the second step of the cliff, pecking the ground for insects. A bug breakfast, no doubt. Mimic and I raced upstairs!
The window on the landing faced the neighbor’s yard and it would be the perfect viewing spot. There, halfway up the stairs, we sighted and clearly identified the first bird we’d count. It wasn’t a rarity perched on a tree or a majestic bird of prey soaring the sky high above. The first bird of our big year was a simple bird; small, peaceful and unassuming. Watching this little guy I was reminded of the small birds mentioned in the Bible, birds often overlooked by humans, but birds having great value in the eyes of God.
The Common Ground Dove may sound like a creature that might be considered insignificant, but not for us. To my family and I, this grayish-brown bird with small black spots on its wings was the best bird to begin our Big Year. Like the many birds that were sure to follow, seeing this bird was a priceless gift from the maker of heaven and earth.
After driving through the famous water crossing in our city’s largest park we decided to stop at the cobblestone lined banks of the downtown river. We had hoped we could spot something new.
Mallards were an obvious observation as were the whistling ducks as they whizzed by and out of camera shot. A lone American coot careened near an open culvert (or below the hole in the wall). Finding a few blue-winged teal scattered about the emerald waterway (also not in frame) was a favored first. The gadwall we saw later that day was another nice new edition.
Still the waterfowl that ‘pecked’ our curiosity most and grabbed the attention of a passerby who asked, ‘which one is it?’, was a bird that once flocked exclusively on the other side of the world, the Egyptian goose.
Many exotic birds have been introduced into the wild in this country and some like these geese from North Africa have found their way to Texas. The Egyptian Geese that you see lining the wall of the San Antonio river – ain’t originally from around these-here parts – but we are happy to welcome these beautiful birds to this picturesque downtown park!
For most of the year the Roadrunner, a bird native to Texas and very common to the area, had eluded us completely. After repeated trips to the nearby state park, arriving early each time and driving slowly down the road, we finally saw that evasive little bird! It wasn’t ‘running’ though, it was just standing there on the side of the road…
That is until I grabbed for my camera. ‘BEEP-BEEP!’ – in a flash it was gone! The elusive Roadrunner had eluded us once again.
(note: Roadrunners don’t actually make the ‘beep-beep’ sound – but they are very fast.)
We had a very productive ‘birding’ visit to the coast this weekend and saw many migratory bird species. I think the birds were as surprised as us that Texas has been so cold so early this year!
That is an American Oystercatcher. You don’t normally see these birds in Texas, so sighting this bird was a rare treat for my family and I. For my son (the bird expert) this made the 109th bird species sighted this year!
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