A New Word for Spring

I just finished The Urban Bestiary again. I think it's my fourth reading.

The first time, I fell in love with possums. The second time it was a huge appreciation for corvids. Truth be told, I was already fond of ravens and grackles, but the book brought them closer. The third time it was starlings, which had only recently arrived in Lubbock. I still marvel that I had to research quite a bit to find that the most common bird in North America was nesting in my backyard elm.

I'm no stranger to new revelations from re-reading. I read Romeo and Juliet five times per year for eight years and I found something new each time. I read Cannery Row every other year and find new joy in the aubades each time. I read the Bible almost daily and I constantly find new nuances and applications buried in familiar verses.

With this reading of The Urban Bestiary, it wasn't a new animal. It was a new word - phenology.

I've been trying it out on friends, but none have known it. They've been guessing it's a complicated psychological term, but it's something much simpler. It's the observation of natural signs of seasonal change.

It's something I've practiced for years without knowing it. Each year I look forward to sharing "The First Lizard of Spring" photo on Mesquite Hugger. (Spoiler alert: it's always a Mediterranean gecko.)

Lately I've noticed the elms budding, the Canadian geese have left town, and the egrets, cormorants, and wigeons are scarce. The blue jays and starlings are back. The days are noticeably warmer.

Lord, how I revel in these things (even though I miss the egrets.) The weather is a little warmer and I;m commuting on the bike more. Being outside is a giving me chance to see more phenological signs.

Through the winter, I've struggled with my commute - mostly in a car; with my job - in a windowless office; and even with my home that I rarely see in daylight.

But spring approaches and I'm armed with a new word. It's time again to live (and watch) more deliberately, to drink in these natural delights. Joy comes in the morning.

May you find your own new word and awaken from whatever slumber has held you. May you enjoy the season deliberately.

Feathered Friday: Heron Photo Fails

If you've been tuning in lately, (hopefully) you've seen some big improvements in the bird photo department. The pelican, egrets, cormorants - I've gotten some decent pics.

Herons -  not so much.

My favorite bird, bar none, is the great blue heron; a bird that is stately, gorgeous, grouchy, and (I've come to learn) very wary. So, today, I give you a few attempted heron snaps.

Heron #1

(look in the top right corner)

Heron #2 (middle of the pic)

Yes, there is a heron in this photo.

Wigeons and Canadians

Maybe I should stick to grackles!

May you enjoy the attempt more than the image! Get outside and enjoy the world.

Your Saturday Grackle (posted on Sunday)

I found a natural, free-range form of pest control yesterday.

There I was Saturday afternoon tackling the backyard jungle, and I noticed I had a helper. Wherever I had just mowed, there was this female grackle pouncing on all the displaced bugs. She was quick, efficient, and very graceful. And she was the only one. The dogs noticed her and startled hassling her, so I shut them in the house. She kept a wary distance, but less than most birds would. And it was a treat to watch her at work.

So, we have a big spider on the back porch, the gecko in the compost box, a few ladybugs near the ollas, and a grackle working the yard. 

May you find help in unexpected places.

Local Wildlife: White-Winged Dove Kicks Grackle Butt!

We found this little samurai in training in the front yard last night. Don't be fooled, there beats a soldier's heart!

A few weeks ago I was riding home from work on the electric motorcycle - silent vehicles are great  for sneaking up on urban wildlife - and I saw something extraordinary! I saw a white-winged dove getting all Jackie Chan on a male grackle. It was awesome! The bird of peace has apparently had enough! In short order the dove had pounced upon the grackle three times and the grackle went running (flying) for the hills!

I was in awe! I knew I had seen something I would never see again! It may sound stupid, but I find moments like that strangely life affirming. So I did what any life-affirmed person should do, I went and told everyone who would listen. And the people around me looked at me like I was crazy.

The following week it happened again, and this time it was in my backyard. It was early on Saturday morning. I was sitting on the back porch drinking coffee and watching a really obnoxious grackle doing his best impersonation of an air-raid siren while sitting on an elm branch. His choice of song turned out to be a little ironic as a white-winged terror dropped from the sky and started flapping and chest bumping. The grackle fled to another tree. The warrior dove followed and attacked again. The grackle fled and the dove came back and serenely perched on the grackle's original spot.

So I shared the story with my wife a little later in the day. And she said, "Oh yeah, I saw that happen the other day too."

And John had seen another instance of it.

I went to shoot photos of Los Swartzes at the park shortly after that, and we saw it happen outside the arboretum. It's not an isolated incident. It's a movement. I think the dove council has voted that they need an image change, and they started the revolution by going after the bullies. It looks like the artist sometimes known as Prince (and the Revolution) is going to have to rewrite his song - This is what it sounds like - Dove War Cry! 

¡Viva la revolucíon de la paloma!

May the revolution be televised! (I did not find it on youtube yet.)

Bonus link of the day: White-Winged Wikipedia (but no mention of the revolution)