MoFiN and SooP

Saturday was the 17th anniversary of marriage to my dear, integrous, handsome, and highly talented husband, Martin.  We enjoyed a fabulous day trip to central Arizona, where we enjoyed wine tastings at Javelina Leap Vineyard & Winery and Page Springs Cellars.  Javelina Leap was more instructional and intimate.  Page Springs was more impressive, large, and put-together.  Page Springs had WAY more wines, but I think I enjoyed the experience at Javelina Leap better.

There are other wineries in the area, but we thought we’d better halt it at two. 

We also very much enjoyed an hour or more meandering around the Page Springs Fish Hatchery nature area walking on the close, wooded trails, and watching the birds in and around the ponds.  We saw a Black Phoebe, six or so Great Blue Herons, dozens of American Coots and American Widgeons, many Mallards, several White-Crowned Sparrows, and perhaps hundreds of Ruby-Crowned Kinglets, which were a new add to my life birding list.  We likely would have ID’ed more birds had we given it more time.

We spent the late afternoon and evening in old town Cottonwood, where there was a festival of some sort with a variety of interesting people, booths, music, art, and general funky, small-town atmosphere.  We bought some Peruvian wool yarn for my sister, who was staying with my girls, and had dinner at the Tavern Grille.

It was a great day.

On the drive home, we stopped for Starbuck’s and watched the moon rise over the bare hills of central Arizona.  Perfect.

When we got home, we discovered that my sister nearly died watching my girls.  Not really, but she was in tears.  Of course, she never let on about any of this while we were gone.    She requested that she never watch the girls again without the help of at least two of my boys.  We then sort of laughed over the apparent oxymoron of how it’s easier to care for five children than two.  Plus her own 15 month old daughter.  My sister Robin has a bad back, and she said that she realized that, most of the time she watches my children, she stays on the couch and gives orders to the older children, intervening when necessary.    Much easier than chasing around one-, three-, and five-year-olds, nonstop, for about twelve hours.  She was in pain and a little horrified how Audrey in particular took advantage of Robin’s less-than-availability, instead of sympathizing and helping more, especially in light of how Robin had carted Audrey around to all sorts of special things that day — a birthday party, a paint-your-own-pottery place, the park…

I felt badly for Robin, and badly about raising a daughter who isn’t appreciative of the good things provided for her.  I’m still sorting that out in my mind, and in a couple of conversations with my sister regarding parenting…

This provided a giggle, though:

When my sister was preparing dinner (“soop”), Audrey — who had attended a birthday party earlier that day with her own gluten-free cupcakes in hand — decided to petition Robin for a better dinner.  “Mofin?  Yes!  Soop?  NO!“  It’s a “sparkle muffin” with frosting and sprinkles (a.k.a. a cupcake).  Note the appropriately-placed smiley face and frowny face.

Overall, a good day.

Next time, I’ll definitely have mercy on my sister by leaving behind some helpers for her. 

Dear Brown-headed Cowbird,

I love your clear, watery warble. But your parenting practices are highly suspect.

I can’t decide if I like you or not.

Sincerely,

~Karen

Just about everything but parenting

• Writing:  If you have read here for a while, you may remember that much of my 2010 and part of 2011 was taken up with ghostwriting a book.  The book is now available for sale — here at Brushed by God — and soon elsewhere. 
• School:  During the school year, it seems like a genius plan to work for six weeks then take off a week.  With these regular breaks, my house gets clean, special trips happen, everyone breathes a deep breath.  But, ’round about this time of year, when just about everyone else is done with school and we still have four weeks left, it seems less than brilliant.  We’re not finished until June 10.
• Garden:  Thanks to repaired irrigation tubing and some short, cute fencing, my garden now really looks like a garden, according to my husband who blessedly did the irrigation and fence work.    However, the fence does not keep out our dog, who has an odd — and maddening — affinity for corn plants.  My corn, some of them 18″ high, does not like it, either.  The garden sits in a side yard, and we may have to run a sturdier barrier from house to side-fence to make the garden dog-proof.  Otherwise, the garden is taking spectacular shape.
• Fitness:  I am now feeling stronger after nearly three weeks of hiking 3.5 miles, three times a week.  This makes me happy.  My “fat” jeans are looser, too, even though I’ve really lost no weight.  I guess that’s from muscle gain?  I don’t know.
• 

  My bodybuilding cousin Romney, military wife and mother of two.

  Random extended family thoughts:  I’ve been reflecting on how widely differing my extended family is.  It’s really a cross-section of American society in general…  Just amongst my cousins (including both sides of my family), one is a nun, one is gay, another just placed fourth in a body-building competition — it has been interesting to watch her really transform in the last 18 months,  one is a single dad, one lives in a neo-hippie commune, one is teaching English in Japan, one is a theater professor, some are academics, some are blue-collar workers, some are Christians (in various manifestations), some are pagan, some are married, some not…  Lots of really disparate interests and paths of life.  I find it really fascinating.  Are most families similar to mine in their dissimilarities??  I don’t think there’s enough closeness in my extended family, and I’m sure there’s some cause-and-effect somewhere in there, but I’m not sure of the root…  I’m sure I’m part of the problem, too, sadly.

• Church stuff:  Over the summer, I’ll be attending a Beth Moore Bible study (the updated version of Breaking Free).  Yesterday, my pastor’s wife asked me if I would, during one of the weeks’ meetings, give a little testimony based on the story I wrote last week, on the story of my son Wesley’s life, and how God really saved my life (literally) through him, when I thought it would kill me.  I was really pleased with her request.  I printed out and edited the original story because I have to hold it to seven minutes, which required me to cut it roughly in half.  That’s OK.  My writing is generally too bloated and filled with unnecessary asides, anyway.  I have pared. 
• Household stuff:  My hubby installed a “new” microwave over the weekend.  Our “old” one was just 5½ years old, but literally falling apart –  the vent broke off and had already been replaced (then broke again), the door handle completely broke off…  Replacing the door was going to cost us nearly $200.  Ack!  We couldn’t do that.  Thankfully, he works for a homebuilder, and we were able to get one out of a model home for less than half of retail.  Cool!  So, it’s five years old or so, but it’s never been used.  A friend of ours has the same model and is very happy with it.  I now have to figure out how best to clean stainless steel, as it is the first stainless appliance in our home.  Small complaint, though;  I’m happy to have a functional microwave.
• Birds:  A Northern Cardinal (and today, his mate) has been visiting my back yard for the last three mornings.  Cardinals are not rare in the Phoenix area, but they are uncommon, and in the 5+ years we’ve been in our home, this is the first time that we’ve had a daily visitor.  Mr. Cardinal has pleasantly interrupted my mornings. 
• Other cardinals:  My husband was asked to design a home — like a manse — for a cardinal in California.  I’m very proud of him.  It’s a modest 1600 s.f. house on a very narrow lot.  My man is brilliant and thinks in 3D.  He whipped out the plan in one day.
• My mother:  In sad news, my mom is back in the hospital.  I can’t remember how much I blogged about it last year, but in July, we nearly lost her.  She has Marfan Syndrome, and her skeleton is collapsing, which has given her decreased space for her lungs (and other organs).  Additionally, half of her diaphragm is paralyzed.  Then, she got double pneumonia.  She recovered, to our great relief.  She is a stubborn lady, and that can pay dividends when fighting illness.  She has lost a tremendous amount of weight and is very frail, and has been placed on oxygen “as needed”.  In the last month or so, her need for oxygen has been 24/7, with her oxygen saturation dipping into the 60% range or even down to 50% if she’s off of oxygen for even a short while.  After a doctor appointment yesterday, the doctor sent her straight to the E.R.  She has double pneumonia again, and is correspondingly hypoxic.  She was supposed to have major surgery (an estimated 12 hour ordeal) on the 25th of this month to resection her spine and to put in metal supports inside her ribcage area.  This is a risky procedure even for a healthy person;  for her, the doctors had given about a 60% chance for surviving surgery, mostly because of the extremely mushy shape of her arteries — she’s had two AAA repairs and one femoral artery replaced already due to aneurysms.  However, the surgery is really her only hope — aside from miraculous healing — for longer-term survival, since right now, she’s slowly being suffocated.  With this bout of pneumonia, the doctors have indefinitely shelved the surgery.  She’s crushed about that, but — unlike past stays — she’s relieved to be back in the hospital.  Normally, she is an unwilling patient.  I can’t decide if it’s a good thing or not that she’s happy to be in the hospital.  Your prayers would be greatly appreciated.

Poetic birding, summer plans, and a million trips to the potty

• There are Lesser Nighthawks all over my neighborhood, mostly in the summer.   They wheel in the air close to the streetlights, and rest on the road (!), camouflaged on the asphalt, frequently rising in a flurry of feathers as a car drives by.  I went for a walk with my youngest daughter around sunset last night, and heard what seemed to be two different Lessers calling to each other, but I didn’t see them.  (I’m on a birding listserv, and a guy posted about seeing a Lesser Nighthawk last night.  I replied with this, and after I had written it, I re-read it, and it sounded poetic.)
• I am very excited to have booked at least part of our summer
  

  At Limekiln, you get THIS...

  vacation!!  I have wanted to go to California’s Limekiln State Park for a good five years, and this summer it appears that I’m going to get my wish!  My dear hubby is a very linear thinker, and wants to have A, B, and C done and tied neatly with a bow before moving on to D, E, and F.  In other words,he does NOT like to plan ahead, because then there are a million half-done, tentative things hanging around in his brain, and it drives him batty. Additionally,being that we live in the scenic and wonderful state of Arizona, he sees little need to venture out of our borders, with the possible exception of Colorado, since his brother lives there.

  

  ...only a few hundred feet from THIS.

  He’s NOT into driving long distances.  So, my planning has been made with extra thankfulness for him agreeing — well in advance — to plan for and book a trip that he’s not all that sure is going to be worth the tedium of driving for two days…

• Fiala, my 26 month old, is potty-training.  She’s doing well!  Mostly, that is.  She even went to church yesterday without a diaper, and stayed dry all day.  She still has to be taken to the potty every 30 minutes or so, though.  When she says, “I fuh-uhgot to go potty!” that means, “I’m wet!”  This morning, I was doing a school with Wesley, and didn’t want to be interrupted to take yet another trip to the bathroom.  So, on a whim, I asked my four-year-old, Audrey, if she would take her.  A few minutes later, they came back, flushed and grinning with triumph, and both very aware of the novelty.  Next up:  Audrey makes dinner for our family of seven and runs a few loads of laundry. 

Weird. Awkward. Birders.

Not my pic! This is what a Crissal Thrasher looks like, taken by Elroy Limmer.

I sent out a plea for assistance to a local birding list yesterday.  In the e-mail, I described how, over the last week or so, I have spotted two juvenile thrashers — siblings, perhaps? — and they look similar to Crissal Thrashers, except that they both have extensive black (or at least charcoal grey) streaking on their breasts, which Crissals should not have.  I described the birds as best as I could, and hoped for some good responses.  I was specifically wondering if thrashers could hybridize, since a couple of them have dark spots/streaks on their breasts.

I got several really helpful private replies, with the general consensus that it’s probably a Crissal Thrasher, though I’m not convinced;  there is a LOT of streaking on the breast, and it is very dark, which Crissals don’t have, either mature or immature.

Anyway.

One of the replies I receive, though, threw me for a loop.  It was from a lady who suggested that she come over and spend the day with me on Saturday to help me out with my “thrasher problem.”  She told me she’d schedule her time with me around a college football game she wanted to see, and some time with a cousin who also lives in my city.

I was taken quite aback.  It just seemed really forward.

I replied:

It has been a pleasant surprise, during my short time on the bird list, that it appears that a number of those participating offer up their homes and properties for other birders.  I really love that camaraderie.

However, I just don’t think it would work for you to come on Saturday.  Saturdays are our only days for family time, and we tend to be quite selfish of our time together, even on weekends that are not busy with responsibilities and activities.  My husband has a full-time job, plus is the worship pastor for our church, so our weekend time is rather abbreviated. Additionally, some or all seven of us have plans for both Friday and Saturday…  And, my sister and her husband and new baby are moving back to Phoenix, and should arrive on Sunday.  Time gets even tighter around the holidays.  Lastly, to be honest, I think my husband would be rather unnerved by a stranger — no matter how friendly and innocuous — spending the day with our family.

I feel badly saying no to your suggestion, and I’m sure you would be lovely company, but, unfortunately, I just don’t think it would work.

~Karen

p.s. Maybe it’s still a good idea to visit your cousin!  It sounds like you could use some company.  If they’re the sort that are up for a drive, I suggest taking the Carefree Highway to the western entrance of Castle Hot Springs Road (almost to Wickenburg), and driving north and east to a spot about ten miles in, to where there is a convergence of two or three perennial creeks — N 33.97620 x W 112.44647, if you have a GPS.  You can do an easy hike back in at least three directions and follow the creek beds for some great birding.  I’ve been there at all times of the year, and there is always some water, though, of course, after it rains there is always more.    (You can enter the coordinates on this website to get a map: http://www.mytopo.com/searchgeo.cfm)

Perhaps I should have just told her, “No, thank you.”

Or, perhaps she is really in need of a friend and I should have, if nothing else, took it on as an opportunity to minister.

It just seemed like an unsettling mix of loneliness, presumption, and wanting to help…

Ten things I have enjoyed in the last few days

In no particular order:

1. Fiala’s second birthday.  Precious girl.  We have no pictures because my camera is totally broken now, and the grandparents forgot theirs.  We had a simple cookout party with family at the park on Saturday.  Between Friday (her actual birthday), and Saturday, she received a grand total of three presents, each simple and inexpensive… but her face is such a delight when she receives a present.  I think she really understands the heart of gift-giving, and she feels so special and thankful, no matter what the gift is, which makes it all the more delightful to give something to her.
2. Receiving new earrings in the mail.  Ordered from Mom Potter’s Etsy shop. 
3. The new Sherlock on PBS Masterpiece.  It was so wonderful!  I really enjoyed Benedict Cumberbatch (what a name!) on 2008′s The Last Enemy, aired on Masterpiece Contemporary last year, and he was even better as a 21st century Sherlock.  My husband wasn’t so convinced he’d like it — he’s a big fan of Jeremy Brett’s Sherlock portrayal.  But, about ten minutes into it, he said, “OK.  I’m hooked!”  Not giving too much away, but if you know the story of Sherlock Holmes, the one problem I had with the storyline/script is that it HIGHLY inferred that one character was so-and-so, but it turned out not to be the case, but another slightly lesser-known character.  I felt a tad manipulated, and I hate that in movies/TV shows.  Still.  It was really good.
4. The cooler weather in Phoenix. Mornings in the 60s.  Days in the 80s or occasionally a bit lower.  ~sigh~  I’ve been waiting for this!!
5. Getting a couple of bird mysteries solved, via a birding listserv I just joined.  Yes, that is a Eurasian Collared-Dove I saw;  as an introduced species, they are heading westward.  And, yes, Anna’s Hummingbirds can hybridize with Costa’s.
6. Worship on Sunday.  It was so rich, both musically, and with the presence of God.  I couldn’t even sing, half the time.  Good thing I wasn’t on stage! 
7. The author of the book I ghost-wrote signed her contract. This was after long weeks of (slow) negotiations.  She got some things altered for her benefit.  Good for her!!  Expected publication date is August 1, 2011.
8. Our “new” entertainment center.  Our TV barely fits, but it does fit!  My hubby and oldest son spent a good portion of Saturday setting it up. 
9. The Jars of Clay Greatest Hits CD.  I have a couple of their CDs.  I’ve been a somewhat-fan over the years.  And, this CD is two years old, so I’m behind… (as always, with music)  But, what a great CD this is!!  I spied it at the library, and I’ve been greatly enjoying it.  All my kids like it, too.  I’ve been belting out the songs at the top of my lungs as we’ve traveled to and fro these last couple of weeks, as I’m familiar with all but three tracks on the CD.  It’s eminently singable.  I’m not normally a huge fan of retrospective type albums, but for someone like me, who enjoys Jars of Clay, but who does not own the whole collection of their discs, it’s perfect.
10. My oldest son, Ethan.  He’s not a “thing”, but I have been so enjoying his growing-up.  He is 13.  In June, he stepped up to the youth group at our church, instead of the kids’ church…  He was unsure about the transition, but he’s really enjoying it now, and I think it has lent to his already-thoughtful nature, learning things and considering subjects that need some deeper maturity.  He’s a boy of few words, so it’s difficult to get a long conversation from him.  But, in our exchanges, I have been delighted in the evidence of his careful thought and kind consideration of those with whom (or of whom) he speaks.  He’s not perfect, of course, and there are a few things about him that make me wanna pull out my hair.  But — similar to my husband, of whom I have the same confidence — Ethan is faithful to work on the areas of his life’s garden which need weeding.  If you point out an error, he genuinely takes steps to improve, even if initially, he’s not all that receptive.  He’s a son to make a mother proud, and I love him so.

Interesting things: My own mini blog carnival.

Too many compelling blogs, too little time….

Here is a mini-roundup of bloggy thoughts I’ve found interesting in the last few days.

Hey, also, if you have a blog, or know of a blog that you think might interest me, leave a comment with a link!  (I’m always looking for interesting blogs, even as I sigh about there not being enough time to read them.)

1. Joy writes an amusing post, a retrospective on her eighth wedding anniversary, of all the anniversary camping trips she and her husband have taken.  She also posts other thoughts, both beautiful and heart-wrenching on the ups and downs of their eight years together…  I’m trying to figure out if I find these posts particularly compelling because I know (knew?) Joy in real life…  They’re worth a read, even if you don’t know Joy. 
2. Really compelling thoughts by Amy Romano at Science & Sensibility, regarding the nature and value of research (stemming from thoughts on the connection between endometriosis and c-sections).  As always on that blog, the ideas presented are quite learned and heady, and I’m always hesitant to comment.  I couldn’t resist this time, though.
3. A thought-provoking post from Luke Holzmann questioning that specialization automatically equals better science.  He relates it, sort of, to education.  I think my comments, collectively, are longer than his original post.  Thank you, Luke, for your tolerance of my verbosity.
4. I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT THIS!  And along comes a blog post, on my reader, as if reading my thoughts.  From Pacific NW Birder, a discussion on changes in common and scientific names of creatures, notably the Rock Dove, Columba livia, whose name has recently been changed to Rock Pigeon.
5. A “report”, via blog, by my neighbor, friend, and fellow homeschooler, Jeanne on the cranberry.  Entitled Pearls of Crimson, it’s a compact treatise on the cranberry’s history as well as some current scientific findings.
6. A post, entitled Why I Don’t Watch Glee, by my friend Nicole, on not being a trend-follower.  I could relate with so much of what she said!
7. Beautiful story by Daja of champagne and cigars on the banks of the Seine with a homeless man… echoes of Matthew 25:37-40 (truly!).

Backyard birding (or, the birds think it’s winter!)

• I would make fun of this name, if I wasn’t a birder:  Red-naped Sapsucker.  Yes, that’s a real name.  And, yes, he sucks sap.  I’ve been enjoying one in my back yard for about a week.  It’s the first time I’ve seen on in the Phoenix area.
  

  (not my photo!!)

• After the demise of my hummingbird feeder, my dear husband bought me another, as a surprise.  I haven’t hung it up yet;  I think I’m going to attach it to a limb of a tree in our back yard, so it doesn’t drip sweet goo on the back patio.  It’s lovely copper with a real glass container. 
• I’m also happy for the return of Say’s Phoebes.  Occasionally, I see a Say’s during the summer, but they’re much more common in the winter.  Not that it’s really winter here, yet.  They’re not really exciting birds, but they’re… peaceful.  Peaceful birds.  And, I like their gentle-but-clear whistled call.
  

  Photo by Peter Basterfield

In which my prayer revives a bird. Maybe.

I have really bad eyes.  Really bad.  I dream about winning the lottery (which we don’t play) and the first thing I would do is get lasik.  I have 20-300 vision in one eye, and 20-450 in the other.  Contacts correct my vision to nearly 20-20, and glasses correct my vision to… 20-25 or something like that.  My eyes, though, don’t like contacts, so I only wear them two or three days a week.

This is the bane of my birdwatching:  I can’t see.

Really, you MUST own one.

That’s an exaggeration, of course, but I think that it’s ironically humorous that I would really love a hobby that requires sharp eyesight.  On the rare times my hubby and I are able to go out birding together, he, with his Six Million Dollar Man robot vision, spots birds from afar, and starts describing them to me as I squint in the direction where he’s pointing, and furiously flip through my Sibley guide as I think, with a twinge of envy, “I can’t believe he can see that bird that well, from that far away.”  We make a good team, actually.

If I could balance my desire to wake up early to watch birds with my propensity to read books late into the night, things would be perfect:  I’d be able to wake up much earlier in order to accomplish everything I’d like to, early in the morning, having several hours in which to do so.  As it is, though, I typically have only a half-hour or so of quiet on the back patio with which to start my day.  Occasionally, I take out my Sibley guide and a pair of binoculars.  However, my primary purpose of this patio-time is to read my Bible and pray for a bit, before the chaos sets in.  My spirit is willing, but my flesh is easily distracted.  If I do take my bird stuff out with me, I invariably spend my whole time watching birds instead of spending time with my Father…  He created birds, with all their intricacy and unique qualities, and it’s not like I think He’s bothered by my compulsive birding, but I really do need that time — too brief as it is — to drink in some wisdom and feel His Spirit settle on mine.  So, I usually JUST SAY NO to birding in the early morning, at least official, equipped birding (contacts, binocs, guide).

Because of this, most mornings find just me in my glasses, with my coffee, Bible, and journal, outside.  I must, when a bird tempts me by a flash of yellow or an unrecognized warble, look up and try to find the source.  However, because of my bad eyes, this is usually some source of frustration, because I just can’t see sharply enough to actually identify anything, unless I see it on frequent occasions, or unless it swoops low on the stretch of lawn between the patio and the trees.  So, usually, in my devotion-cum-not-real-birding time, if I spot an interesting bird, it’s never well enough to officially ID the bird, and make a note in my book.  It’s more like, “This morning, I think I saw a…” which, really, if you’re a birder, is a very unsatisfactory state in which to be.

On several occasions in the last couple of weeks, I have thought I have seen a female or juvenile male Black-headed Grosbeak.  I could tell, well enough, that it had sparrowish markings on its back, that its beak was very finchy, its breast was orangey, and there was bright yellow under its wings.  However, that would put the bird quite out-of-range — I’ve only seen Black-headed Grosbeaks in the mountains of Colorado, and if it was a juvenile, that would mean that he was likely born here in the desert, which I thought very unlikely.  So, he just remained my mystery bird.

Until this morning.

I saw him fly from one tree to another, remarking to myself, “He has a LOT of yellow under his wings.  Oh, he’s swooping this way… closer…  OH!!”  I leaped to my feet, jumping aside as I watched my poor bird dive at a fast clip right into the window directly behind me.

THUNK!

He immediately fell to the concrete patio below, belly up.

Thus began a solid… five or ten minutes (I’m really not sure how much time passed) of me both observing the bird, feeling badly for doing things like saying to myself, “Oh, his bill is bicolored!  The lower half is even a bit rosy!  Should I get my camera?  Should I pick him up?”  I had visions of a shoebox with leaves and a soft cloth in it.  “Is he just stunned?  I can see him breathing.  He’s blinking his eyes.  Would picking up a bird who has just whumped into a window endanger his spine?  Whom would I call for bird rehabilitation?  Maricopa County something or other…”

All those questions were alternated with observances of his plumage and the like.  I even contemplated getting out a ruler, thinking, “I’ve never been this close to a live bird who might let me actually measure it!”

I told you I was a bird nerd.

Then, with a quick motion and a flutter of wings, he flipped to his feet.  I thought he might fly away, but he didn’t.  This gave me a number of minutes to observe the plumage on his back, again feeling half-badly as I did so.

His head, then, began to dip.  He sunk lower, though still on his feet, and rested his beak on the concrete patio.  His head tipped a little to the right.  He started gently heaving sighs.  “This does not look good,” I thought.

I decided to pray for him.  I even reached out my hand toward him, though I didn’t touch.  I just asked Jesus to have mercy on His little creature, and to give him enough strength to fly away and heal, somewhere safe.

Right about that time, my husband poked his head out the door to tell me that our daughter Fiala was crying, and had a raging fever.

The bird startled, fluttered, and flew low across the yard, stopping in a low bush, behind a Little Tykes playhouse given to us by a friend.

I went inside to tend to my darling little girl who is, indeed, very ill.  (She’s napping right now.)

At lunch, I had a chance to pull out the Sibley guide.  Sure enough.  Black-headed Grosbeak.  First-winter male.  Bright lemon yellow under his wings and on the vent, no streaking on the sides or flanks… I could describe him further, but lemme tell you, I have virtually no doubt — the only odd thing was that the lower mandible did have just a hint of rosiness to it, like a female.  Still.

Looked very much like this guy:

Thanks to the Pacific NW Birder blog for this pic!

Martin and I checked the spot to where the bird had flown, later in the morning, and there was no sign of him.  I hope he’s well.

So, I don’t know if my prayer revived him, or that it was Martin startling him when he poked his head out the door — a true “flight” response, or what.  But, I’m happy that he didn’t die. 

Little back-yard birding interlude

Cooler weather has arrived.  Sort of.  “Cooler weather” here means that the highs are only in the 90s, and the early mornings are down into the upper 60s.  I even had to wear a little sweater on the back patio this morning, which was so nice.

Cooler weather also means that more birds come out to play.  There are a large number of birds who stay here year ’round, but summertime sees mostly house finches, house sparrows, grackles, and mourning doves.  There are other birds out there, but as far as what I see in my back yard, the summer pickings are pretty slim.  Hot afternoons are eerie, with not a chirp to be heard, nor a flit to be seen.

I do see hummingbirds here, through the summer.  Odd:  in my last house (in a less far-flung location), I would most often see Black-chinned Hummingbirds.  Costa’s Hummingbirds favor this location.  Watching a Costa’s try to sip from each of the five fake flowers on my hummingbird feeder led me to whip up some simple syrup to fill it.  Then, I broke the feeder, and now it won’t hold any liquid. 

(a snap I took of a Costa's, from a blog post of mine a few years ago!)

Now, for the last couple of weeks, I have seen, almost daily, a family (I believe) of Cactus Wrens — two adults and a juvenile:

(not my pic; click for pic's location)

Yesterday, I saw a really large and thick-billed Curved-billed Thrasher, and I had to giggle, because he was… thrashing around in the gravel.

Thanks to photographer James Prudente for his permission to use this stunning pic

And, this morning, I caught a glimpse — both by sight, and in hearing the flight call — of what I’m nearly certain is an Audubon’s Yellow-rumped Warbler.  I got just a flash of yellow, but for certain caught the charcoal-colored wing with the white patch of coverts, while it was in flight — breeding plumage, still.

On a number of successive mornings, I also have seen three juvenile Mourning Doves;  I’m pretty certain they’re siblings.  I got excited at first, because I thought they were adult Inca Doves.  Sadly, no such luck;  when they took to flight, I realized my error.

I heart birds.

Did I ever mention that Fiala loves birds, too?  I’m tickled to have a birder-in-training.  She is genuinely interested in birds;  I haven’t bribed her or anything.