The absence of posts here is indicative of two things: 1) we've been busy on a number of projects that need to be done before the end of the year, and 2) we haven't seen any new birds! (sad face)
This is not from lack of trying. We've tried multiple times for one of the last somewhat-common birds we still need, the Short-eared Owl, but have failed every time.
But with two weeks to go, we’re not giving up yet. We decided to make one more journey out to Florida and Texas for a few rare birds, hoping to boost our number just a little during the last few weeks of the year.
This latest episode began on Saturday, as we flew out to Miami and checked into a hotel near Pembroke Pines. The subject this time was a rare visitor from the Bahamas or Cuba, a Western Spindalis. Note this is not a device used to make thread, it is actually a bird. It was first reported at a Florida park about a week ago, coincidentally, the same park where we saw the Spot-breasted Orioles on our prior trip.
So, Sunday morning, we rose as early as we could, and arrived at the park at 930A. Our excitement level rose as a small group of photographers were arrayed around a tree! This was going to be EASY.
We approached the group, and causally asked, “Whatcha got?”
“Oh, it’s very exciting,” the lady replied, “Several Spot-breasted Orioles are hanging out, and we're getting great pictures!” Which would have truly been exciting, if those weren’t the same birds we’d seen two weeks prior.
But this wasn’t completely bad news, as reports of the Spindalis mentioned that it was associating with the cluster of orioles. So, we asked if anybody had seen our bird.
“Yes!” she exclaimed, “Just about 30 minutes ago! Somebody saw it on the other side of the field.”
OK, now we were cooking with gas. Wandering over to the proper side of the field, we pumped other birdwatchers for information. Had they seen it, and if so, where? How high in the trees? What was it eating?
As the morning passed, one by one, the other birders gave up and wandered off. The park grew busier and busier, as the non-bird crowd showed up. This park turned out to be a multiuse facility, including camping, a large dog park, huge picnic grounds, and (because why not?) a shooting range. So, as the afternoon drew on, and we continued wandering to and fro not seeing our target, we were serenaded by dogs barking, motorcycles and unmuffled cars showing off, laughing and shrieking, all punctuated by the constant POP-POP-POP of gunfire.
Finally, as dusk fell and our spirits with it, after 8 hours of standing around accomplishing nothing, we gave up and returned to the hotel.
As we worked through the evening’s projects and then found nearby dinner, I started to feel worse and worse. By the time we went to bed, my throat was so sore that just attempting to swallow was painful. This did not bode well for the next day, of which we only had about 3 hours of daylight to find the bird before needing to return to the airport.
Monday morning, as the alarm went off at 5:45AM Eastern Time, I woke and took stock of how I felt.
To fully describe my situation, I need to explain a little personal history. A few years ago, I had a co-worker that I very much enjoyed talking with named Simon. Simon was British, and aside from the delightful accent and occasional turns of phrase that needed translation, he punctuated his speech with frequent epithets. And he wouldn’t just say the epithets, he would carefully and precisely pronounce each syllable, letting them drip from his tongue like molasses.
One of the words that he said very well, and very frequently, was “Shit”. And when Simon said the word, you didn’t just get the sense that his target was kind of bad. He would insert the briefest of pauses after the “Shi” and then clearly enunciate the “t”, as though spitting out the word with the fullest level of disgust that one could muster, while keeping a properly British polite and civil one.
With that in mind, I can honestly say that I felt like Shit.
But, we had only a few hours to rescue this leg of the trip, and so the show must go on. So off we went, into the humid and still dark Florida morning, to stand in our park and watch for nothing. We did arrive three hours earlier than the prior day, however, so maybe the outcome would be different?
As before, the orioles made an early appearance and, like a Kardashian at a cocktail party, kept themselves the center of attention. And like paparazzi at a Kardashian cocktail party, photographers with high-end cameras and lenses the size of small artillery guns fired off hundreds of frames of the birds preening and modeling in the early morning sun. Meanwhile, we covered yesterday’s territory for seemingly the thousandth time.
With about 30 minutes before we had to leave, we decided to spend the rest of our time near the orioles, hoping that the Spindalis would make an appearance with its friends. In football terms, this was the equivalent of throwing a Hail Mary pass at the end of a game: you don’t expect it to work, but just maybe…
Suddenly, the orioles decided the time was right to move to the palm trees just behind me, and one by one the seven birds flew over my head. Then, an eighth shape zoomed in, close on their tail feathers.
My binoculars shot up to my eyes, and while the lighting was terrible, I could see from the shape that it wasn’t an oriole. When I saw the black and white pattern through the eyes, I knew we had it.
The Spindalis obligingly flew to a nearby tree, perching at the top while looking first one way, then another, as if to give the crowd of adoring photographers the glimpses of him that they wanted. And it looked something like this:
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| Oh, my, you're a pretty one. How about a little back view? |
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| Oh, yeah, that's a good look. Might nice red feathers you've got there! |
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| "Creep!" he shouted, exiting stage left. |
Our next stop was Walgreens, for a truckload of Nyquil and Emergen-C, and then off to the airport. Our day was otherwise uneventful, and now we’re in Corpus Christi, TX. A Mexican warbler was reported near here last weekend, so we’re going to try our luck at it tomorrow, before returning home for a few more attempts at the owls.
Here's to our luck continuing tomorrow, and that Nyquil really kicking in!
Me
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