That man’s silence is wonderful to listen to.–Thomas Hardy
Feeling like a downtrodden character in a Thomas Hardy novel, I continue to battle entropy at home and work and have not been able to get back into the field. The late onset of cooler fall weather hasn’t helped matters–but tonight, a cool front! So don’t give up on us! Sooner or later the photo-birding will pick up again, and we will continue to share our adventures. Birding is fun, and fun will be had again!
Life is one long process of getting tired. –Samuel Butler
As summer winds down, and we try to wrap up a long list of projects, we find ourselves overwhelmed and exhausted (again). We’ll have to put bird photography on the back burner for a while. Never fear, friends, soon we’ll be back with more adventures involving our feathered friends!
We must cultivate our own garden. When man was put in the garden of Eden he was put there so that he should work, which proves that man was not born to rest. –Voltaire
The last week or so has been an incredibly hectic and exhausting time of clearing and hauling brush, painting, making minor repairs, and taking long trips to acquire tools and supplies. Mixed in with all that was a series of visits to botanical gardens (Tucson Botanical Gardens, Arizona Sonora Desert Museum; Tohono Chul) and a nursery (Desert Survivors) to gather ideas for our future desert gardens, which will surround the house. More on that project as it develops . . . .
Because the primary reason for the visits to these gardens was for landscaping and horticultural ideas, we left the big glass and tripods behind. We shot almost exclusively with the 100mm f/2.8L Macro and the 300mm f/4L. Elisa used the 50mm f/1.4, too, for landscape and planting shots. (A bird photographer using a normal lens!?!) This innocuous-sounding gear was plenty heavy enough as it was, as the temperature topped 100 degrees on every visit to the gardens. A 600mm f/4 and tripod would have been the coup de grace.
We spend most of our desert birding time in the Chihuahuan Desert, but on this trip we were mostly in the Sonoran Desert, to the west of the Chiricahuas where we now spend part of the year. Aesthetically, the Sonoran Desert has it hands down over the Chihuahuan, primarily because of the botany. The Sonoran, with its saguaros, organ pipe cacti, and forests of teddy bear chollas is easily one of the most spectacular places on earth. We have decided, though, to plant only native species in our gardens. But there will be places for exotics, namely in pots on the patios and in the sun rooms. All birds, no matter their origin are welcome, though.
As a break from work projects, I took an hour or so to photograph hummers in the Hummingbird Aviary at the Arizona Sonoran Desert Museum. But as is usually the case, I worked harder on that than I typically do working! It was hot, hot! Early in the morning, the light was low and required breaking a few rules–namely shooting below 1/300 hand-held with a 300mm lens and above ISO 800. By mid-day, the glare was absurd, and the temp was above the tolerance of this Minnesota boy! No matter the pain, I still highly recommend brief visits to the world’s harsh places!
Don’t walk behind me; I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.–Albert Camus
During the past week or so we’ve been settling into a steady routine of working on the property and taking hikes and local walks. We even took one long hike with the local hiking group. As we walk, we keep learning new tidbits of information about the local natural history: A new bug, here, a new flower, there . . .
On the long hike up the North Fork of Cave Creek, for example, we noticed large chunks of obsidian in the stream bed, and this led to a discussion of collecting rocks and minerals among the group. Turns out there are many places to collect minerals in the area. One of the group leaders even owns an abandoned zinc mine where a variety of ore minerals can be found (thanks A.B.!).
But every so often, like today, we’re taking a day to let the scrapes and bruises heal–and to contemplate what’s next. As you reach middle age, it’s hard to “waste” a day, but sometimes the body just gives out (and stays in)!
He (the Turkey) is besides, tho’ a little vain and silly, a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a red Coat on.–Ben Franklin
On an early morning binocular bird walk in the neighborhood, I was both delighted and annoyed when a flock of Bullock’s Orioles decided to perch not more than twenty feet from me and call and sing. There were males, females, and immatures–all right out in the open–and me without my big glass! Once home, a bit dejected, I got back to work in the yard.
But to my surprise, a mother Wild Turkey slowly started to cross our property, a flock of youngsters in tow! Silently, I sneaked back to the garage to retrieve my big rig. A few images later they were gone. I have seen Wild Turkeys in Cave Creek Canyon Before (Barfoot Park, South Fork), but never this far east. It takes a while to know a place–and in birdwatching luck can turn from bad to good quickly!
When you’re safe at home you wish you were having an adventure; when you’re having an adventure you wish you were safe at home.–Thornton Wilder
As much as we love birding around the Houston area, the crush of humanity–mostly traffic and yahoo encounters–has become a bit much of late. This sentiment figured prominently in our choice of retirement location: Birding had to be available right outside our door. And now there are many birding sites within a few miles of our desert home. So presently I can work myself into a near stupor with building and maintenance projects and still get out to bird once in a while . . . .
And if the birding doesn’t pan out, as was the case this morning, daubs of wildflower color do dot the landscape and are available for macro work. This day I went out to South Fork, Cave Creek seeking an image of the Elegant Trogon, but had to settle for flowers and bugs (and hearing the bird’s call). Maybe next time.
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.–Henry David Thoreau
Less than two miles from downtown Portal, Arizona lies Jasper’s Feeders, a well-known birding attraction in the Cave Creek area–my understanding is that the name derives from a previous owner, the current owner continuing to allow public access. Here, a small clearing is equipped with several seed feeders and a water supply. Out in the flats of the blistering Chihuahuan Desert, food and water are a godsend for a variety of birds.
In the three or so hours I spent there (once in the evening and once in the morning), I saw White-winged Dove, Band-tailed Pigeon, Eurasian Collared Dove, Blue Grosbeak, Northern Cardinal, Gambel’s Quail, Curve-billed and Crissal(?) Thrasher, Yellow-breasted Chat, House Finch, Ash-throated Flycatcher, a small Empidonax Flycatcher, Black-throated Sparrow, Broad-billed Hummingbird, Canyon Towhee, Pyrrhuloxia, and Bell’s Vireo. I question the Crissal Thrasher because, although I saw the black mustache, the bird was in shadow, and I didn’t get that good a look. In any case, signs of renewal of life were everywhere: Flocks of quail chicks scooted across the dust, and young thrashers, fledgling Pyrrhuloxia, and baby House Finches battled a tough crowd for limited resources.
Unless it’s obvious from geography, I visit new locales in the morning and evening to see when the light is best for photography. At this time of year, the feeders are hopeless in the morning: The best photography is to be had along the trail leading to the feeders, where the photographer can keep the sun to his/her back and image birds in the trees and brush. It is possible to get some nice shots at the feeders in the evening at this time of year. I look forward to visiting throughout the year to see how the light changes and who else shows up! Jasper’s Feeders are well worth a visit if you are in the area. And don’t forget to drop a few bucks in the donation box!
The more unintelligent a man is, the less mysterious existence seems to him. –Arthur Schopenhauer
Well, another grueling academic year is in the rear-view mirror, and it’s now time to get my head screwed back on properly. According to the locals, June is the most miserable month to spend in Cave Creek Canyon, Arizona. Too hot they say! Certainly by late morning it’s too hot for a pudgy 55-year-old physics teacher to be doing hard manual labor outside, but the early mornings, evenings, and nights are beautiful. With the windows open, sleeping is comfy under a wool blanket! Try that in the sweltering hell that is Houston!
Thus far, the birding has all been about flycatchers. Say’s Phoebes and Ash-throated Flycatchers are everywhere, calling and hawking insects. While out binocular birding early one morning, I saw an Ash-throated Flycatcher with a dragonfly slip into a cavity in the bloom stalk of a large dead agave. The next day I came back with the big glass and staked out the agave. In less than two minutes, a flycatcher returned with a grasshopper to feed babies. The bird just perched on top of the agave and would not enter the cavity, probably not wanting to give away the location of its young. I took that as a cue and slipped away with a few images, probably having spent less than four minutes there. All Myiarchus tyrant flycatchers (Ash-throated, Dusky-capped, and Brown-crested) that breed in southeastern Arizona nest in cavities–definitely something to watch out for.
By 9 AM or so, it’s far too bright for super telephoto bird photography. Around this time, I’ve been exploring the landscape for macro opportunities. Splashes of color now dot the Arizona landscape–so off I go looking for bugs and flowers . . . .
Prickly poppy, cholla, desert willow, and a variety of small yellow and white composites are in bloom at my elevation (around 5000 feet). Generally I have been surprised at how few bees and Lepidoptera are around–perhaps a manifestation of the unfolding global crisis in insect populations (Guess who’s to blame? Right!). In any case, the elderberries are also currently in flower, but the fruit is still not ripe. Soon the elderberry trees will be an irresistible draw for many of the birds in the area–and for me and my big glass!
Shadow is a colour as light is, but less brilliant; light and shadow are only the relation of two tones. –Paul Cezanne
We finally made it down to the Coast for the spring songbird migration today. And what a glorious day it was: cool, clear, and windy. There were migrant songbirds around, but they weren’t making it easy on birders . . . .
In the warbler department at Lafitte’s Cove, we saw Yellow, Palm, Audubon’s, Black and White, Black-throated Green, American Redstart, Bay-breasted, and Blackburnian–typical birds for this time and place. Indigo and Painted Buntings were around as were White-eyed Vireos and Black-chinned Hummingbirds. Most of the birds tended to stay in protected areas, out of the wind, though.
I spent some time staking out the red mulberry trees with hopes of getting a shot at orioles or tanagers. No luck. Only Northern Mockingbirds, European Starlings, and Gray Catbirds came to sample the fruit. Perhaps it was too windy. The fruit-laden branches were often waving violently.
For most of the time we were there, a fox squirrel watched, unperturbed and immobile, the comings and going of birds and birders from atop a sunny dead tree-top. Too bad the birds didn’t have the same idea!
Busy old fool, unruly Sun, why dost thou thus through windows and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers seasons run? –John Donne
Walking through the woods the other day, the ascending trill of the male Northern Parula signaled the spring songbird migration on the Gulf Coast and the culmination of the breeding season. I have to always remind myself that breeding in birds is not an activity that can be considered circumscribed in time. Courtship, pair-bonding, migration to places with enough food to sustain young, development of breeding plumage, nesting, and rearing young are activities that encompass much of the year. But now is the time to start to be on the alert for the most interesting and conspicuous of these behaviors. It is the best of times . . . .
Nobody gets justice. People only get good luck or bad luck. –Orson Welles
Regular readers will no doubt have noticed the precipitous decline in productivity as regards our outdoor adventures. Again, this is the furtherest thing from our desires. Lately life has been eating our lunch. On the latest trip to Arizona, for example, we headed out with high hopes of sunny days in the field, but . . . no! Lousy weather and a broken-down water treatment system guaranteed almost no time out photo-birding. We can see the light at the end of the tunnel, though, as far as one of the nightmare projects that have been monopolizing all our time. Hopefully it’s not a train. We stand at the brink of the best of birding times along the Texas Gulf Coast. We have simply got to get out!
Not knowing anything is the sweetest life. –Sophocles
Last night the Moon passed through the Earth’s shadow. As complete astrophotography neophytes armed with the wrong equipment and only the basic principles of photography, we parked our photo-birding super-telephoto rigs in the driveway and attempted to document the event . . . .
As the eclipse progressed and the moon darkened, we were forced to move from the suite of familiar camera settings that could possibly be used in normal (i.e., bird) photography into the realm of madness. Goaded by Elisa, eyes like burning coals in the darkness, to ever higher ISOs and absurdly low shutter speeds, I barreled into the night until a case of warbler- . . .er, lunar neck, shut down the operation. Transit of Mercury here we come.