With apologies to Poe

Inspired by actual events.

Once upon a summer swelter, while I weltered in my shelter,
Reading backlogged emails, each more urgent than the one before,
As I toiled, resisting napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my kitchen door.
"'Tis the FedEx guy," I muttered, "tapping at my kitchen door -
Only this, and nothing more."

The timing was inopportune, for in the midday heat of June
I hide indoors awaiting monsoon storms their cooling rains to pour.
Eagerly I wait and wonder, when will storm clouds roil and thunder,
Lightning tear the sky asunder, bringing coolness I long for,
Bringing long-awaited coolness that we desert rats adore,
And our peace of mind restore?

But the raps were not repeated, so I chose to remain seated
Avoiding summer air so heated by not going to the door,
There were emails to be sending, other business issues pending,
I should really not be spending time on phantoms at the door
Wasting Facebook time on chasing phantoms tapping at my door,
Though my butt grew numb and sore.

Back to my computer turning, my paycheck to resume earning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, lightly on the kitchen door.
"Surely," said I, "that is someone who has braved the hellish noon sun
A delivery errand to run, and this knock I can't ignore,
A package or a letter, too important for me to ignore."
I rose, and strode toward the door.

Turning now the shining brass knob I was greeted by a small mob
Of hot chickens gathered on the porch before the kitchen door:
Joni blond and partridge Pearlie, brainy Grace and Bonnie burly,
Thinking they'd be let in, surely, if their Mom they did implore,
They gazed at me so pitifully, a ploy they hoped I would fall for.
And then they walked right in the door.

Through the kitchen four spoiled hens stroll, past the fridge and to the dog's bowl,
Checking here and there for crumbs and morsels dropped upon the floor,
No rustic roost was ever finer than a La-Z-Boy designer
Plush and cushiony recliner Dad and Mom worked hard to score,
Soft recliners far more comfortable than carpet or bare floor,
Soon festooned with chickens four.

"Out!" I cried, "Before the pooping starts and I'm reduced to scooping
Guano from the furniture, the carpet and the hardwood floor!
You're common barnyard fowl" I chided, "and you're tragically misguided
If you think you'll be abided as you foul my hardwood floor,
Foul my chairs, my tufted carpets and the oak upon my floor."
Quoth the chickens, Brahk-ahk borrr?

Then these winsome fowl beguiling my stern visage into smiling
By the charm and innocence of the countenance they wore,
"Though you'll no doubt make some crappies and you have no chicken nappies,
I do love to see you happy, though your messes I abhor.
I will let you roam a while until you start to soil the floor."
Then Joni pooped upon the floor.

"Out!" I cried, my patience snapping, "Why such frequent need for crapping?
Oaks long dead don't need your guano - take your butts back out the door!
You're not princesses," I berated, "so you shouldn't look deflated
When you find you're reinstated in your coop behind your door,
Safe from my wrath and coyotes, locked behind a sturdy door.
Quoth the chickens, Brahk-ahk borrr?

As I chased them toward the doorway, they began to act like wild prey,
Dodging, ducking hands, the chickens managed to evade me more
'Round the living room we gyred until I became so tired
And so hot I near expired and flopped down upon the floor,
So tired and hot that I forgot what I was chasing chickens for.
They clucked in triumph, Brahk-ahk borrr!

And the chickens, never flitting, still are sitting, still are sitting
On the arms and backs of chairs I tried to keep them off before,
And their eyes are smug and gleaming as they ponder how their scheming
Did prevail against my screaming as I chased them 'round the floor.
And these fowl from off my chairs and out my house and out my door
Shall be evicted... nevermore.

© 2012 Sheri L. Williamson. All Rights Reserved.

Double dipping on BBBB quotes

Google Alerts tipped me off to a mention of SABO in a post over at sustainablog.org. Checking it out, I discovered that contributor Justin Van Kleeck repeated my quote from Mike Klesius's January 2007 National Geographic article on hummingbirds. Scrolling down, I was even more delighted to see that the first comment paraphrased one of Tom's favorite observations about hummingbirds as quoted by Richard Conniff in "So tiny, so sweet--so mean," an article originally published in Smithsonian Magazine (September 2000) and condensed and reprinted by Reader's Digest (May 2001).

You can read the Nat Geo article here, but I couldn't find the full Smithsonian article on line. Too bad, since it earned author Richard Conniff the John Burroughs Association essay award for 2000. You can read part of it here. (This should come as no surprise, but I was the other guide Conniff quoted in his opening paragraphs.) --SW

All too familiar

Someone at The Onion, that hip, edgy, and often outrageous send-up of newspaper journalism, is a casual birder or knows a birder pretty well. Those are the only two possible explanations for this:

The Sibley Guide To Birds Has Clearly Misidentified The Dark-Eyed Junco

The urge to open our Sibzilla to page 488 is almost irresistible...

--SW

Hello, Bird Banding Laboratory?...

I'd like to report a banded bird. It was a male dark-morph South Polar Skua, and the band was on his right leg. The band was yellow plastic with a ratchet-type closure and was marked with "A54" in black. No, there was no metal band on either leg. Where was the bird? Well, I'm not exactly sure. Somewhere in Antarctica near an Emperor Penguin nesting colony. I think it must have been some distance from the location where the skua was banded, because the penguins didn't have any experience with humans. Oh, and in case it might be helpful in matching it to the right banding project, the researchers collected a blood sample during the banding process. How would I know that? Well, there was no mistaking the bird's description of it, even though he obviously didn't understand that it was a blood sample. Pardon? Of course he didn't talk to me! I overhead him telling a juvenile Emperor Penguin who asked him about the band to distract him from his predatory intentions...

Okay, I didn't really report this band to the Bird Banding Lab, but it's tempting. The banded skua had a small but pivotal role in Happy Feet, an animated film released this weekend. Bird research is a pretty rare plot device for feature films, and the inclusion of avian in-jokes (the central character, Mumble, sounds at times like a real Emperor Penguin while his conspecifics all sing like pop stars) made me wonder if the skua's band might be an homage to a real banded bird.

While it's not in the same league as March of the Penguins, Happy Feet is well worth seeing if only for the exquisitely rendered birds and land/ice/seascapes. The creators took quite a few artistic liberties, mostly to help distinguish the characters from one another, but the textures of the feathers and their interactions with the environment are simply amazing. A word of warning, though: This is not your average kiddie fare, with themes that very young viewers might find at least puzzling (courting penguins belting out the sexy lyrics of Prince's "Kiss") if not disturbing (terrifying Leopard Seal and Orca attacks, an abandoned whaling station strewn with skeletons, penguins rendered catatonic by life in captivity).
_____________________________________

And speaking of animated wildlife and environmental fables, a few months back we watched a Japanese feature film called Pom Poko. Though Tom's not at all interested in anime, he couldn't resist the plot description involving raccoons fighting the destruction of their forest home by human development. Japan doesn't have raccoons, but it does have the raccoon-dog, a.k.a. tanuki, which figures prominently in Japanese folklore. (We occasionally eat at a Japanese restaurant in Sierra Vista named after this critter.)

One thing we noticed a few minutes into the film was that the male tanuki were often drawn with rather prominent testicles, something you seldom see on Western cartoon mammals, with the obvious exception of Fritz the Cat (but maybe that's why Mickey Mouse wears pants and Donald Duck doesn't). Later, the soundtrack referred to the "raccoons" using their magical "pouches" as weapons. It finally hit us that the English translation was neither taxonomically nor anatomically correct. It seems that the tanuki of myth and legend is renowned for its oversized testicles, which it uses in a variety of inventive ways (even as a percussion instrument - ow!). The mating season also enters into the plot, one more reason that many Western parents probably would not consider this appropriate fare for the very young.

The shifting visual representations, from realism to traditional caricature to goofy minimalism, may be confusing for viewers not steeped in the conventions of Japanese animation, but the plot is engaging and the message compelling. I recommend it for an entertaining peek into Japanese mythology, culture, and environmentalism as well as an introduction to modern Japanese animation - see it if you have the chance. --SW

The Four-letter bander's code for Harris Hawk should be HAHA

If I can just hotwire this baby, those jackrabbits won't stand a chance!! (apologies to Gary Larson).

ANWR, Solstice party, We call them "chickadees"...

Well, it was a false start with the blogging interface on Earthlink, so we're trying Blogger. I've moved our few original posts to this new page and kept them linked to an archived version of the original blog page.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 23, 2005

The closest call yet for the Arctic Refuge
Four senators. That was the slim margin this week between preservation and destruction for a global treasure. Pro-drilling Republicans crammed a provision to drill in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge into the much-needed defense spending bill, which also includes assistance for both Katrina's victims and poor families burdened by rising energy costs. The forces of exploitation got only 56 votes of the 60 necessary to block a filibuster by the provision's Democratic opponents, and the bill was expected to be withdrawn for revision.

This issue has special importance for us because Tom and I supported the legislation that created the refuge in 1980, with no expectation that we would ever see it. But see it we did, 16 years later on a birding trip down the Canning River with Clay and Pat Sutton and Pete and Linda Dunne, led by Bob Dittrick and Lisa Moorehead of Wilderness Birding Adventures. We can tell you from personal experience that the refuge is everything its supporters claim and more. How many drilling supporters have actually been there to see what's at stake?

The Big Oil-backed proponents of drilling try to reassure the American people by claiming that only a tiny portion of the refuge will be impacted by oil exploration and production. Don't you believe it. A USGS map of the 1002 Area, the area that would be open to drilling, shows that it includes virtually the entire coastal plain - the most biologically rich and sensitive part of the refuge. Drilling pads would be scattered over as much of that area as deemed necessary by the oil companies to get at the gooey black stuff lying under the fragile tundra. Drilling proponents' estimates of the total affected area are based on the combined area of the drilling pads, which is indeed relatively little acreage, but it doesn't take into account the ripple effect of disturbance from each of those pads to the flora, fauna, and hydrology of the area.

Both of Arizona's Republican senators voted to block the filibuster and proceed with the vote, which would have passed the bill. Kyl is no surprise - he's an anti-environmental party hack who has voted for drilling almost every time it's come up - but we were really disappointed in McCain, who had opposed drilling in previous underhanded, backdoor attempts by Congress to circumvent the will of the American people. Since I can't thank either of my own senators this time - even the one with a conscience - I'll have to thank Republican senators DeWine of Ohio, Chafee of Rhode Island, and (I'm choking as I write this) Frist of Tennessee as well as all of the Democratic senators except Akaka and Inouye of Hawaii, Nelson of Nebraska, and Landrieu of Louisiana.

The exploiters won't give up - there's too much money and power at stake - so bookmark your representatives' contact forms and put their office numbers on speed dial. Let them know that a sane, responsible energy policy emphasizes innovation and conservation for long-term security, not exploitation and devastation for a few months or years of oil company profits. Keep fighting for this magnificent wilderness - for the fauna, for the flora, and for the future. --SW

Fri, December 23, 2005 | link

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 21, 2005

Solstice party
Tonight was a Solstice party and anniversary celebration for our community radio station in Bisbee, KBRP. I do a regular Wed. night music show on the station and have been involved pretty much since it went on the air.(You can listen on-line at kbrpradio.com) Tonight was slightly bittersweet for me - I enjoyed the party and always get a kick out of the Bisbee folks that turn out for a blowout like this, but originally the plan was for my band, The Guild (my old high school rock and roll band that reformed for our 30th reunion and still play occassional gigs) to play for the dance. In the end, the logistics of getting my group here from three different states, finding practice time and space and doing it all around the holidays proved to be an insurmountable obstacle. Our non-profit is foundering and, as I search for a regular paycheck, I finally decided that getting the group together here was one more bit of pressure I didn't need. But it would have been fun. And the guys would have gotten a kick out of the Bisbee crazies. We love our little town and hope we can stick it out here. --TW

Wed, December 21, 2005 | link

TUESDAY, DECEMBER 20, 2005

We call them "chickadees"
Here's a tale of Christmas Party Past inspired by Bill of the Birds:

At the annual holiday bash thrown by some well-to-do acquaintances of ours, I found myself chatting with a lovely expat who had just returned to the States after living most of her adult life in the UK. She quickly discovered that I was into birds and began quizzing me on the differences between American birds and the ones in her English garden. The names were really confusing her. Why, she asked, were our blackbirds so different from European Blackbirds and our robins so huge compared to their British counterparts? I explained that the American Robin is a close relative of the European Blackbird, while neither American blackbirds nor European Robins have precise counterparts on each other's continents. "And you haven't any tits!" she exclaimed, to which I replied, "Oh, we do, but we call them 'chickadees'." Tom chanced to walk up at that very moment but immediately turned around and walked away without saying a word. As the party wound down, we thanked our hosts, said our goodbyes, and headed for the car. Only after we were safely inside did Tom burst out laughing and say, "You should have slapped that woman when she said you didn't have any tits!"

To all, Happy Holidays - whichever ones you celebrate. --SW

Tue, December 20, 2005 | link

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 18, 2005

TW tries it out
All right, here we go. I encouraged Sheri to explore the world of blogging for us after enjoying Bill of the Birds and Birdchick's blogs. The danger here is that our lives may seem mundane by comparison, but perhaps this can serve to encourage me (and Sheri) to write more, which would be a good thing. After a couple of weeks where both my computer and our washer died horrible slow deaths, it's a risk to try anything technological but I'm also experimenting with the capabilities of the site.



Sheri and I both have soft spots in our hearts for quail after living with a couple of orphaned rehab Bobwhite in Texas years ago. I make sure that our local quail in Bisbee have food and water at our place. A shallow pan provides a nice watering hole and cheap birdseed is the preferred menu item. Recntly, as you can see they've also been enjoying the pyracantha berries. Mostly we see Gambel's Quail in our yard (we're at the edge of desert habitat) although Scaled Quail used to come as well before the recent drought. We'd love to have them again. We are probably a little too low and far from the oaks for Montezuma Quail. --TW

Sun, December 18, 2005 | link

The Sulphur Springs Valley...
...one of our favorite winter birding locations (at least on this side of the border). At Whitewater Draw Wildlife Area, Tom photographed this handsome Barn Owl. The big draw at Whitewater Draw is Sandhill Cranes, but it's also a great place for owls and other raptors. We've seen Great Horned, Long-eared, Short-eared, Burrowing, and Western Screech there in addition to Barn. --SW

Sun, December 18, 2005 | link

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 3, 2005

A raptor-iffic day in the Sulphur Springs Valley

Tom and I spent today in the Sulphur Springs Valley leading the second Hawk Stalk of the winter season. The overall raptor tally was pretty low (only 65 individuals of 10 species), Ferruginous Hawk numbers are still very low, and we missed Bald Eagle and Sharp-shinned Hawk, but mere numbers never tell the whole story. Highlights included four Prairie Falcons (including two engaging in an aerial ballet), a subadult Golden Eagle obligingly perched on a fence post, a Taiga (Boreal) Merlin taking a siesta in the shade, the usual rainbow of Red-tails, three Great Horned Owls, and an outstanding crane show. Lovely weather didn't hurt - in fact, it got downright warm by midafternoon. Participants Willis and Pat from PA were a couple of very happy birders when we rolled back into Bisbee this afternoon. --SW

Sat, December 3, 2005 | link

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 2, 2005

In Praise of Sparrows
Or "How I Overcame 'Sparrow-phobia' and Learned to Love the LBJs"

LBJs - the classic birders' bane. A double whammy of cryptic and skulky. But those who spend time studying sparrows find that they have a way of growing on you. It typically starts with the gaudier ones: White-crowned, White-throated, Fox, Lark, and Black-throated. As you're admiring the bold contrasts, subtle colors and patterns begin to seep into your subconscious. The vibrant juxtaposition of rust, ivory, and slate in the plumage of a Red Fox Sparrow. Winter-sky grays on the breasts of the Zonotrichias. The way the charcoal nape of a Black-throated shifts to olive on the mantle. Velvety black wing linings on Lark Buntings in winter plumage. Pretty soon you're finding treasure in "the drabs": Kaleidoscopic patterns of maroon, umber, caramel, pewter, and white on Lincoln's, and the pencil-thin white eyering and chestnut epaulet of Vesper. Banders have the ultimate opportunity to appreciate the finer points of sparrow plumage, and it was with birds in hand that I became well and truly hooked on their subtle splendor (I bet "splendor" is a word you never thought you'd see sharing a sentence with "sparrow").

Patient scrutiny is rewarded with insights into their personalities. White-crowneds are the aristocratic artists; their stately songs brighten sunny winter days. Lincoln's are positively savage, lunging at feeder rivals with open bills. Black-throateds and Larks are usually seen in groups and seem to have strong family values. Sage Sparrows seem more rodent than bird as they scurry from shrub to shrub like little chipmunks, their tails cocked skyward.

The West has been in the grip of drought for a decade, and sparrow populations have suffered. Lark Buntings and Brewer's Sparrows seemed particularly hard hit. In the Sulphur Springs Valley, one of our favorite winter birding areas, we had grown accustomed to seeing flocks numbering in the hundreds to thousands. Quiet dirt roads would be blanketed in buntings that would lift off from the near edge first until the whole flock rolled across the landscape like a gigantic feathered tumbleweed. Then the populations crashed, and we were afraid that we would never see such abundance again.

But wild creatures are resilient. Decent rains in 2004 gave the populations a boost, and this year is looking even better. Good-sized flocks of many species have already arrived in the Sulphur Springs Valley, and the feeding station and water feature in our yard have already lured many sparrows of diverse species: both "Mountain" and "Gambel's" White-crowneds, Lincoln's, Brewer's, Chipping, and even the occasional stray Lark Bunting. Green-tailed Towhees, usually one of the most conspicuous members of the family, are back in fair numbers, with at least two visiting our yard. This afternoon, a resident Black-throated scratched around in the driveway gravel less than 15 feet from where Tom and I were sifting soil into a garden bed.

I'm scheduled to teach a two-day sparrow workshop in mid-January. The last couple of years it's been cancelled due to lack of interest, but maybe the rebounding sparrow numbers will inspire a few birders to sign up. Even if it doesn't "go," I'll plan on spending a day getting reacquainted with these vastly underrated birds. -- SW

Fri, December 2, 2005 | link

Sticking a tentative toe into the cold, wet ocean of the blogosphere...
I guess you could call it "blog envy." A lot of our birding friends, acquaintances, and colleagues have blogs, and while Tom and I are not the sort of people inclined to bare our souls to the world, we do love to share the important things in our lives with others who'll appreciate them. Though we spend a good part of work life sharing birds and other natural wonders with the general public, there are also times when we see something spectacular or learn something new and don't have anyone but each other to share it with. There are also things that fall outside our job descriptions that we'd still like to share - music, art, humor, opinions, and worthy causes. This will be our outlet for those shareable moments. We hope you enjoy it. --SW

Fri, December 2, 2005 | link