another one blew in last night. Dubbed a "bomb cyclone". Didn't hit as hard as the last one, a few weeks back, but enough to throw Rosie's bday plans off-kilter...
Was out yesterday eve near the park, without binocs... Not much happening that I could see: mallards were hunkered down on Brewster's property, a flock of juncos (I think) skittered around, jumping from one set of brush to the next near the maintenance buildings.
But the day before... yes, the day before! --
I had 10minutes to kill before the soccer-mom pickup of kiddo post theater practice. Just so happens that Bear Creek greenway runs about a mile south of her school-- same greenway I bike to my own school. But biking by in the early a.m. late for my own classes leaves less time for birding.
This stretch of greenway is sometimes amazingly semi-barren of bird-life. A few things here and there, but... maybe it's just part of the the winter. I have seen an American Kestrel in there eating a meal (some rodent) on top of a post in the late afternoon light-- that was definitely cool. And my first and only Northern Shrike, back in January. And some water birds. And a cool, large beaver lodge and dammed up area. About 6-7 of those between my house and my turn-off near Federal for my school (near the Cowboy Hat park). Pretty great...
Anyways, today like I said I had about 10 minutes, which of course I was willing to stretch. So I moved from paved bike path to walking trail near Bear Creek and suddenly there was movement up and across the creek, south side. Pair of Cooper's Hawks, turns out. Good looking fellas: Grey backs and wings, white to rusty red flecked chest, nicely curved head, white butt. Bigger than the Kestrel for sure but definitely much smaller than most Red Tails I've seen this winter. Perfectly in-between, I guess. One of them was chowing down-- the female, I felt-- and the other was flying back and forth periodically. On his way back I saw his with twigs and he landed at his nest. Right on! Now I know exactly where it is. Aside from the Cormorants and pair of Great Blues on the Clear Creek Cormorant Island, this is the first active next I've seen this year. I think.
Thursday, April 11, 2019
Tuesday, April 9, 2019
Euphonia
I was looking for the right word for a phenomenon I've encountered. Being a relative newcomer to this whole birding pursuit, I'm thinking there's got to be one for it...
The phenomenon: coming upon moments-- almost patches of time and space-- where suddenly your in the midst of a full-on birdsong moment. Not talking about the solo singer here, more when there's a group and suddenly they've got it going on. I've paid attention to time to see if it's a certain time in the morning. Of course there's daybreak. In Honduras that's when I was first exposed to the full-on racket-- cacophony-- associated with the birds in town prior to dawn. And then half an hour past dawn, it was suddenly quiet. As if none of that craziness had just gone down.
But what I'm talking about is not that specific time when birds are just getting going and launching into their morning song, but instead sometime later-- midmorning at time, or mid to late afternoon. Patchwork times. But when you walk into one you know.
The other morning-- Sunday April 7th-- it was in Bear Creak Lake State Park. I'd dropped down from Morrison Road above along a small creek draining towards the lake. Same way I ski in the winter, more or less. Meadowlarks and Red Wings on the way. Then along with north and east side of the lake to where I could cross Bear Creek itself via a single, shaky, downed cottonwood. And back west more or less along the creek, to the north of the big meadow and just within the trees near the creek. A Great Horned in there at times. Red Tailed perched above scouting. American Kestrel occasionally.
There's a good section in there for a bit with pretty much natural forest conditions (seems to me, anyway). With some downed trees and brush and cottonwoods. In there I saw my first American Goldfinch that was turning yellow... halfway, it seemed. By himself. Then suddenly nearby there was a quick courtship between two Northern Flickers, about 2.8 seconds of mating, and then they were just perched nonchalantly next to each other. I was looking for the Great Horned I'd seen there weeks back but with no luck.
Further to the west I was able to cross back to the north side of the creek and head back east. It was here that it happened. I became aware of the concentrated song in just one or two trees there. Coming into focus, I realized it was the American Goldfinch again, but this time plenty of them. I could see five at once but there were more. And they had it going on. So I just sat down to listen, had a look as well and spotted one that seemed to be almost 3/4 yellow-- yellowing from the top down.
So, these are the moments I'm talking about. I've had them with Robins, Blackbirds, Finches and Juncos. They're unique in whatever way-- stand-out-ish. Just, if you're paying attention, you've realized they've just really tucked into it. And how long do they last? 10 minutes? 30? not sure...
I've wanted to call them Euphonia moments.
Euphonious is defined as "pleasing to the ear"--
Euphonia is defined as "a tanager of the genus tanagra"--
Euphony is defined as "the acoustic effect produced by words so formed or combined as to please the ear"
Though in my mind words would be putting us off the scent. Words are not necessary here. It's about the notes and phrasing but also about the fact that this is done in company, not just alone. Not that the solo-singing is great as well... Just a different phenomenon.
Yeah, anyway, I'm gonna use it my own way. Cause euphonia sounds related to euphoria as well, which captures some of the mood for me, for sure.
So that's what i'm talking about from here on, cause I expect it'll be coming back up...
The phenomenon: coming upon moments-- almost patches of time and space-- where suddenly your in the midst of a full-on birdsong moment. Not talking about the solo singer here, more when there's a group and suddenly they've got it going on. I've paid attention to time to see if it's a certain time in the morning. Of course there's daybreak. In Honduras that's when I was first exposed to the full-on racket-- cacophony-- associated with the birds in town prior to dawn. And then half an hour past dawn, it was suddenly quiet. As if none of that craziness had just gone down.
But what I'm talking about is not that specific time when birds are just getting going and launching into their morning song, but instead sometime later-- midmorning at time, or mid to late afternoon. Patchwork times. But when you walk into one you know.
The other morning-- Sunday April 7th-- it was in Bear Creak Lake State Park. I'd dropped down from Morrison Road above along a small creek draining towards the lake. Same way I ski in the winter, more or less. Meadowlarks and Red Wings on the way. Then along with north and east side of the lake to where I could cross Bear Creek itself via a single, shaky, downed cottonwood. And back west more or less along the creek, to the north of the big meadow and just within the trees near the creek. A Great Horned in there at times. Red Tailed perched above scouting. American Kestrel occasionally.
There's a good section in there for a bit with pretty much natural forest conditions (seems to me, anyway). With some downed trees and brush and cottonwoods. In there I saw my first American Goldfinch that was turning yellow... halfway, it seemed. By himself. Then suddenly nearby there was a quick courtship between two Northern Flickers, about 2.8 seconds of mating, and then they were just perched nonchalantly next to each other. I was looking for the Great Horned I'd seen there weeks back but with no luck.
Further to the west I was able to cross back to the north side of the creek and head back east. It was here that it happened. I became aware of the concentrated song in just one or two trees there. Coming into focus, I realized it was the American Goldfinch again, but this time plenty of them. I could see five at once but there were more. And they had it going on. So I just sat down to listen, had a look as well and spotted one that seemed to be almost 3/4 yellow-- yellowing from the top down.
So, these are the moments I'm talking about. I've had them with Robins, Blackbirds, Finches and Juncos. They're unique in whatever way-- stand-out-ish. Just, if you're paying attention, you've realized they've just really tucked into it. And how long do they last? 10 minutes? 30? not sure...
I've wanted to call them Euphonia moments.
Euphonious is defined as "pleasing to the ear"--
Euphonia is defined as "a tanager of the genus tanagra"--
Euphony is defined as "the acoustic effect produced by words so formed or combined as to please the ear"
Though in my mind words would be putting us off the scent. Words are not necessary here. It's about the notes and phrasing but also about the fact that this is done in company, not just alone. Not that the solo-singing is great as well... Just a different phenomenon.
Yeah, anyway, I'm gonna use it my own way. Cause euphonia sounds related to euphoria as well, which captures some of the mood for me, for sure.
So that's what i'm talking about from here on, cause I expect it'll be coming back up...
April :)
alright, spring/ summer migrants are starting to appear. yay!
Cormorants have showed up at one of their islands I know about-- off Clear Creek north and a tad east of Applewood. One of my favorite birding areas-- about a mile of riparian habitat with big cottonwoods, the creek running through, cattails, lots of brush too. First saw the cedar waxwings in there, and the ruby-crowned kinglet, and lots of water birds. But anyways, yep-- the cormorants are back. Probably a good 50 of them on their trashy little island (northern shovelers had the winter rental on the unit, but they've relinquished any claim to it at this point.
Cool thing is there's one pair of great blues nestled in there as well. So, a whole gaggle of cormorants and two blues...
Townsends solitaires have just showed up at my place of work-- the old Loretto Heights campus in southwest Denver. Hasn't been a whole lot going on here through the winter months. Though I did set up a feeder for awhile which brought squirrels more than anything, and then the red-tailed hawk which nailed one of 'em for lunch one day. Seen by me as I was just heading out of the building for my own lunchtime walk.
Cormorants have showed up at one of their islands I know about-- off Clear Creek north and a tad east of Applewood. One of my favorite birding areas-- about a mile of riparian habitat with big cottonwoods, the creek running through, cattails, lots of brush too. First saw the cedar waxwings in there, and the ruby-crowned kinglet, and lots of water birds. But anyways, yep-- the cormorants are back. Probably a good 50 of them on their trashy little island (northern shovelers had the winter rental on the unit, but they've relinquished any claim to it at this point.
Cool thing is there's one pair of great blues nestled in there as well. So, a whole gaggle of cormorants and two blues...
Townsends solitaires have just showed up at my place of work-- the old Loretto Heights campus in southwest Denver. Hasn't been a whole lot going on here through the winter months. Though I did set up a feeder for awhile which brought squirrels more than anything, and then the red-tailed hawk which nailed one of 'em for lunch one day. Seen by me as I was just heading out of the building for my own lunchtime walk.
Monday, April 1, 2019
Spring break trip: Pueble to Santa Fe to Sand Dunes and BV...
Spring break: packed up the van to head down south again.Trip plan included a nights in Walsenburg (a somewhat randomly chosen town south of Pueblo, but with a cool little state park-- Lathrop, just across the road from our house), then later Sand Dunes and BV on the way home. And a couple national wildlife preserves, for sure: Las Vegas, Alamosa, maybe Monte Vista in the future...
Pueblo was the first stop, including popping down to the Arkansas from Abriendo Blvd to look for water birds and whatever else. Kinda quiet-- not much going on in the middle of the day-- but then some birds started appearing on the far side of the river, under the bridge, including the Ruddy Duck, with a bright blue almost iridescent beak. Guy was floating solo-- diving for snacks. Caught a good aerial view of him later from the bridge as we walked across into downtown for a cupcake, coffee, and several games of pinball. 350k to win a free cupcake-- I made it to 325 but came up short... Nice to play old-school pinball again, without too many bells and whistles, and to get Clem into it.
Then a stop at a little Italian grocery store for sausage and a few other supplies, including a new hat for Tob. Blue. Italian sports...
Onwards southward to Walsenburg for the night. A little rental that Gretch found west of town, just south of Lathrop State Park and good birding potential. Same road that heads west to Alamosa, over a pass, but we were going south first, then back up later.
Pueblo was the first stop, including popping down to the Arkansas from Abriendo Blvd to look for water birds and whatever else. Kinda quiet-- not much going on in the middle of the day-- but then some birds started appearing on the far side of the river, under the bridge, including the Ruddy Duck, with a bright blue almost iridescent beak. Guy was floating solo-- diving for snacks. Caught a good aerial view of him later from the bridge as we walked across into downtown for a cupcake, coffee, and several games of pinball. 350k to win a free cupcake-- I made it to 325 but came up short... Nice to play old-school pinball again, without too many bells and whistles, and to get Clem into it.
Then a stop at a little Italian grocery store for sausage and a few other supplies, including a new hat for Tob. Blue. Italian sports...
Onwards southward to Walsenburg for the night. A little rental that Gretch found west of town, just south of Lathrop State Park and good birding potential. Same road that heads west to Alamosa, over a pass, but we were going south first, then back up later.
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