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Authors: Richard Pope
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flushes it out to the edge. We know from his body language he has either been attacked by killer bees or has seen the bird. We rush to the area toward which he is charging and get the bird in an open tree. I like them. Got a decent song on them, you know. No mealy-mouthing.
Louisiana Waterthrush (254, June 4). Long Point area. This bird calls all around us for half an hour, repeatedly flying unseen from the forest floor to the canopy. Margaret sees it. Hugh sees it. Somehow I donât. We resort to tapes. The bird begins to tear around and I get repeated glimpses of it. I keep playing the tape though I know I shouldnât. I remember my vows, but I can do no other. Finally, I get my diagnostic view of it in a treetop. I ask it what the hell it is doing in a treetop, but it just gawks. This is my one overuse of tapes all year. I feel bad, but not quite as bad as if I had missed the bird. I do not want to have to look for the already much harassed Ganaraska Forest bird closer to home.
Least Bittern (255, June 13). Lone Pine Marsh. After numerous attempts, in clouds of mosquitoes and up to my thighs in duck weed, I get a close up fly-by of a breeding pair, the female followed seconds later by the male, after which the flies seem a good deal less troublesome.
Photo by Mike Burrell.
Least Bittern. Hillmanâs Marsh. This cooperative bird forgot how notoriously hard to find it is supposed to be.
A number of these birds (Yellow-throated Vireo, Golden-winged Warbler, Louisiana Waterthrush, Least Bittern) were birds I hoped to get at Pelee and then had to make time to chase and find elsewhere later, when I could have been after other birds. See everything you can at Pelee or pay the price later.
9
Rainy River
And the Lord taketh away.
â AFTER J OB 1:21
H UGH HAS SEVERAL YOUNG HOTSHOTS with keen ears lined up to accompany us to Rainy River but they drop away one by one, thereby missing the opportunity of a lifetime to bird with Hugh and me. Hugh is determined not to be stuck with me alone, a great confidence builder, and begins to ask around. Bob Carswell jumps at the opportunity, figuring heâll get a few laughs if nothing else. He will get more than he bargained for. Heâs got better ears than we do and he drinks, so I figure we havenât done too badly.
Friday June 15 finds us heading north in a stately PT Cruiser, which Hugh has managed to rent on an unlimited mileage basis. When the woman asked our destination, just as I was about to say Rainy River, Hugh said, âOh, weâre heading up Sudbury way and maybe a bit west of there.â I was not there when he returned it with five thousand kilometres on it. They canât have been too angry, however, because they gave him free baseball tickets, which thrilled him.
As we cruise north, we are in high spirits. I should be able to make up for any losses at Pelee. I hope to get twenty new species, which would put me at 275 in late June, a pretty good gaming position with over six months to get the remaining twenty-five birds and then some. Coady would be getting nervous if only he knew.
We talk of possible birds. Connecticut Warbler, which I did not bother to chase even when I was at Colonel Samâs when one was being seen â it was only a female, for heavenâs sake â is a sure thing. In the bag, so to speak. Jean Iron assured me they would be dripping off the trees at eye level at close range. I consider adding it to my list even before leaving, but decide it will be more fun to wait until I actually see my first one for the trip. And, of course, Yellow Rail is another no-miss bird at Rainy River. Glenn Coady says there were kazillions of them last time he was at Rainy River and all the books list them in numerous places. But why waste time; just go to Fredâs Marsh, knock the bird off, and get on with things.
We talk of other slightly less certain birds: Western Kingbird, Spragueâs Pipit, Western Tanager, Western
Louisiana Waterthrush (254, June 4). Long Point area. This bird calls all around us for half an hour, repeatedly flying unseen from the forest floor to the canopy. Margaret sees it. Hugh sees it. Somehow I donât. We resort to tapes. The bird begins to tear around and I get repeated glimpses of it. I keep playing the tape though I know I shouldnât. I remember my vows, but I can do no other. Finally, I get my diagnostic view of it in a treetop. I ask it what the hell it is doing in a treetop, but it just gawks. This is my one overuse of tapes all year. I feel bad, but not quite as bad as if I had missed the bird. I do not want to have to look for the already much harassed Ganaraska Forest bird closer to home.
Least Bittern (255, June 13). Lone Pine Marsh. After numerous attempts, in clouds of mosquitoes and up to my thighs in duck weed, I get a close up fly-by of a breeding pair, the female followed seconds later by the male, after which the flies seem a good deal less troublesome.
Photo by Mike Burrell.
Least Bittern. Hillmanâs Marsh. This cooperative bird forgot how notoriously hard to find it is supposed to be.
A number of these birds (Yellow-throated Vireo, Golden-winged Warbler, Louisiana Waterthrush, Least Bittern) were birds I hoped to get at Pelee and then had to make time to chase and find elsewhere later, when I could have been after other birds. See everything you can at Pelee or pay the price later.
9
Rainy River
And the Lord taketh away.
â AFTER J OB 1:21
H UGH HAS SEVERAL YOUNG HOTSHOTS with keen ears lined up to accompany us to Rainy River but they drop away one by one, thereby missing the opportunity of a lifetime to bird with Hugh and me. Hugh is determined not to be stuck with me alone, a great confidence builder, and begins to ask around. Bob Carswell jumps at the opportunity, figuring heâll get a few laughs if nothing else. He will get more than he bargained for. Heâs got better ears than we do and he drinks, so I figure we havenât done too badly.
Friday June 15 finds us heading north in a stately PT Cruiser, which Hugh has managed to rent on an unlimited mileage basis. When the woman asked our destination, just as I was about to say Rainy River, Hugh said, âOh, weâre heading up Sudbury way and maybe a bit west of there.â I was not there when he returned it with five thousand kilometres on it. They canât have been too angry, however, because they gave him free baseball tickets, which thrilled him.
As we cruise north, we are in high spirits. I should be able to make up for any losses at Pelee. I hope to get twenty new species, which would put me at 275 in late June, a pretty good gaming position with over six months to get the remaining twenty-five birds and then some. Coady would be getting nervous if only he knew.
We talk of possible birds. Connecticut Warbler, which I did not bother to chase even when I was at Colonel Samâs when one was being seen â it was only a female, for heavenâs sake â is a sure thing. In the bag, so to speak. Jean Iron assured me they would be dripping off the trees at eye level at close range. I consider adding it to my list even before leaving, but decide it will be more fun to wait until I actually see my first one for the trip. And, of course, Yellow Rail is another no-miss bird at Rainy River. Glenn Coady says there were kazillions of them last time he was at Rainy River and all the books list them in numerous places. But why waste time; just go to Fredâs Marsh, knock the bird off, and get on with things.
We talk of other slightly less certain birds: Western Kingbird, Spragueâs Pipit, Western Tanager, Western
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