Watch the Birdies

First of all, I'd like to thank my guest host, Mr. Ginley, for filling in for me in this spot last week while I attended my "Warblers and Wildflowers" weekend. Everyone will be happy to know, I'm sure, that he survived my absence just fine.

Next, I apologize to George for not capturing a photo of a warbler. I guess that task is best left to the professionals.

I honestly believed that seeing a yellow warbler on my first evening was a good omen. He was quite close, and using my sister's binoculars, I was able to observe him quite clearly. I was pumped for the weekend.

Alas, this was to be the best view of the trip.

I have never gone bird-watching before. The purpose of the weekend, for me, was to get out of Dodge and off the grid for three days and spend time with my big sister, Diane. In this regard, the trip was successful.

Over hill, dale, forest, mountain and grassland, I tromped along, in frost and sunshine, looking for birds. Along the way, I discovered that my binoculars were inadequate for the task. Also, that the holder of the binoculars was pathetically out of her depth.

Pretty Red Wildflower

I give props to our hosts, who gamely pointed out the birds for me. I could generally track them without my binoculars, but once I raised the lenses to my eyes, and before I could home in on them, they had moved on. My sister assured me it takes a lot of practice to acquire this skill.

I did manage to see a scarlet tanager, albeit from a distance. (I googled him to see what he looks like up close.) I got a good look at a red-winged blackbird and a Baltimore oriole ("No," I told Mr. Ginley, "not the ballplayer.")

Zebra Swallowtail

And, along with the rest of the group, I saw a turkey flying high overhead, a sight that amazed everyone.

What impressed me most about my guides was their ability to identify birdsong. Often, we heard before we saw. And I learned that one kind of bird can have many different calls, further complicating the process. I've always enjoyed listening to birds chatter and call to one another, but I guess I didn't appreciate the complexity of their conversation.

Most of the time, I kept to myself, adhering to the old saying that it's better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you're an idiot than open your yap and prove it.

I did step out of this mode, however, when I asked one of the guides if there was a difference between pigeons and mourning doves. She very patiently explained that the flying rats one finds in the city are the same family as doves, but not the same bird.

Centipede (not my hand)

I learned a lot last weekend. I enjoyed my time with my knowledgeable companions. They were kind to me, and I'm grateful for their patience. While I may never be a world-class birder, I appreciate Mother Nature in all her forms, and the folks who take the time to learn about her wonders.

Special thanks to my sister, Diane, who cut me a lot of slack last weekend. I tried not to embarrass her (too much). The best part of the trip was spending time with my big sister.

Next time, I promise to bring a second set of shoes and a pair of gloves.

And binoculars that are up to the task.