Today was the first time we’ve gone birding in a couple of weeks. The reasons are mosquitoes, ticks, and the heat. So I guess I’m the kind of guy who lets arthropods run his life. This time of summer is also a drag because of post-migration depression. Most of the avian celebrities have left, and though the local birds are old friends, it’s kind of like you’re stuck hanging around with your relatives. Anyway, we decided to head out to Glacial Park, where we had spotted the short-eared owl back in March. We figured we’d see lots of waterfowl.
Category Archives: LIST
seen at seney [260 – 264]
If only my own mother were so tender . . .
Just about 45 miles away from where we were staying on Michigan’s Garden Peninsula is the gargantuan Seney National Wildlife Refuge. I’ve been wanting to go there for some time, but since it’s only open from May 15th to October 15th, I’ve always just missed that small window of visiting opportunity. But not today, Seney will not be missed, no sir, Seney will not be missed.
the legend lives on, from the gift shop on down [258 – 259]
The official Edmund Fitzgerald puzzle — a lifer for us both
Today we were finally on our way to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Our stated objective was the Whitefish Point Bird Observatory to try to pick up some late migrants, but the unstated real objective was the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum, which is located at the exact same place.
one more for the books [257]
We both managed to see CHIMNEY SWIFTS in our respective neighborhoods, about a week apart. As usual, Pole saw it first. End of transmission.
alien slime sausage from the benthic depths [256]
Today was another unbearably hot day. Perhaps not quite as hot as hell (I refer to, of course, the great state of Texas), but nasty, sticky, and windless. Scrubb and I decided to see if we could add any more warblers to our list, and we traveled to Beverly Shores in Indiana and Warren Dunes State Park in Michigan. Everyone else there was cooling off at the beach by the refreshing sixty-degree waters of lovely blue Lake Michigan, but no, we had to sweat to death in the nearby steamy woods and algae-covered swamps, by smelly, barely-moving sludgy brown rivers. We’re birders, dammit, and we go where the birds are, or in our case, aren’t. (They were probably hanging out at the lake, as any smart bird — or human — would.)