Halcyon Birds

Halcyon birds of Greek Myth are Kingfishers,   Pliny refers to them also, and it is thought these mythical birds were the European Kingfishers.  They are known as birds of peace and calm winds.  They are associated with the period around the Winter Solstice when winds are most calm.

Picture here is the Belted Kingfisher, photographed near the beginning of this month.  I am struck by the size of these birds and their quickness.  This photograph captures one of the most overlooked field marks of this species—a small white patch in front of its eye.  One cannot mistake the rattle of a kingfisher.  Hearing it leads immediately to identification without ever having to see the bird.

The Belted Kingfisher is the only kingfisher found in most of North America.  The Ringed and Green Kingfishers have more restricted ranges.  It has been my experience, whether on the river or by a pond or lake, generally only one solitaire is seen.

The irony of this posting is the last two days have been some of the windiest in a long time.  Gusts have been up to 35 mph and several trees have been felled as a result.  Perhaps, I long for calmer days.

Into a Foggy Wood

Into a foggy wood

Walking, following a deafening, silencing stillness,

Disturbance in the leaf litter as I step,

Staring in three-sixty not far enough,

Knowing something is over the hill,

Lost to my sight in a foggy wood.

Couch's Kingbird

 

Too cold to ask for beer.  Too early in the morning as well.  I found this bird in Smithville along Colorado Street early last Friday.  He wasn't singing.  Yet, he did the typical flycatcher thing of leaving his perch to capture  a bug and returned to his post. 

 

Good sighting--bad lighting.

Vortex 8x32 Diamondbacks

 

 

Going for a hike?  How about cycling the trails?  Or a cruise along the inner passage of Alaska?  How about just a day in the park for some good old fashioned nature observation?





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Good Companions

Lesser Goldfinch by Bill Ravenscroft



The cousins were present on my walk down the river road this morning.

No ordinary cousins of mine.  Siskins were joined by the Goldfinches in the seed bearing dried forbs on the side of the road.  The Siskins were far more numerous and greedy.  They flashed their yellow patches in the sunlight as they flit about.  The arm bands of the Goldfinches are more diagnostic at this time of year, for they lack the brightness and color of the breeding season.  It is the winter season after all.

Sorry, you power walkers; you would have missed my good companions.  I had planned to walk briskly, but I was prepared to stop and take notice.  I intentionally stood and craned my neck toward the sky and was rewarded.  The hue of it was more the royal blue of morning rather than the pastel pale blue of an afternoon sky.

Birders are a lucky group. They, getting up with the dawn, find good feathered companions and diverse habitat, a gift of the day free for the taking.  To wit, there is a snag overlooking the river upon which, high up near the top, a Red Shoulder Hawk I often notice.  Today, he was there.  I am glad to say my binoculars were in hand and I was afforded a good look.  His breast was tawny red.  Such a graceful flier, too, shoulder patches visible, distinctly held wings –away it flew deeper into the woods, having had enough of my disturbance.  The five squirrels in the oak below did not look appetizing either, I guess.  Or perhaps, it had already breakfasted on amphibians and crawfish from the riverside.

I do wish more of you would join us who take joy in the observation of nature and become our good companions, too.  You can so easily.  This is an activity that one can take on in youth, in maturity, in mid-life.  It can be as leisurely or strenuous as anyone desires.  It takes you from the hustle, bustle of normal living and grants you tranquility.

I walk on and notice Eastern Phoebes, Red Bellied Woodpeckers, Blue Jays and sparrows.  The “sweet, sweet” call notes of the Downy I hear, and it makes me pause to find the little bird in a pecan.  As I near where my car is parked, upon the grassy knoll, almost a dozen meadowlarks parade.  Which are they, Western or Eastern?  Stop. Wait. Listen.  Ah yes, the melody is of the Western. 

Work calls, Reluctantly, I go. Reluctantly…I go.