Happy Halloween
Finding this eerie looking bird was a thrill. We know "they are here" so, no big deal, right? Not exactly.....
W9 and I opted to bird Woodlawn Cemetery. It's typically not our first choice of areas to go. The light is predictibaly terrible, and good light seems to be the key to a successful photo.
No matter. Here we are, and, as friends, we have supported each other through some rough patches. Even if we don't find any cool birds and perhaps suffer through some of our local color ( Yellow Gloves, for example) when it's time to wrap up the show we know we've had an adventure.
I like to leave a bit of space between us as we walk through the cemetery. I have to be careful not to trip over low headstones or twist an ankle stepping into a hole. I think I scare the birds off before I even see any. Better let W9 take the lead.
A bird rockets from somwhere on the ground near W9, flicker sized but not a flicker. It stays low as it flies giving only a few fast wing beats for propulsion. Then my mind kicks in with helpful thoughts. "Forget it, it can't be rare." "We'll never find it." "We'll be stuck trying to figure out what it was." All the while W9 is methodically and slowly combing the area where it disappeared.
I tread quietly and calmly. It's a good practice. Remember to shut up.
W9 calls my name in that voice you use when you can't yell but a whisper isn't going to get anyone's true attention. "It might just be a piece of wood...." I am peering over W9's shoulder and I can see that it is, indeed, a bird. Someone has tossed a feathered Ghandi Topi hat.
We carefully creep around in a wide arc to try to get the sun behind us. There are no vibrant colors. I think I make out a shut eye. This must be the front end of the creature. Or as W9 says "the side that eats." I can't even tell which side of the face ...I make out a strange little beak with gnarly nostrils. Odd whiskers.
We set up our camp stools. After a while we start to text local friends and birders. Jerry takes a break from work to stop by and check out the Common Poorwill. W9 has left and Jerry has errands to run. I sit by myself. Squirrels are running around doing squirrley things. It occurs to me that a squirrel might rouse this sleeper... the wind picks up and I watch it lift a few feathers. The hat starts to slowly rock. The head turns ever so slightly and one eye opens a bit and then cryptically shuts.
This is good birdwatching.
I was very excited to post my very first ever photo of this weird little dude. And then I remember why I fave so many strange photos. I fave really good ones too, so don't worry. But sometimes there is a story to that frame filled with shadows, leaves, and branches.
Trick or treat? Maybe a bit of both. Be good, my flickr monkeys. : )
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