BY4: Torpor January 17, 2012
Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.trackback
Since I last reported my count 12 days ago, I have added only four birds to my list. Four. Barred owl (mentioned previously), red-tailed hawk, great blue heron, and—at long last—house finch.
I saw the pair of house finches several times four days ago, but not at all since. Where have they all gone?
Two great blue heron sightings, two days apart, in the dead of winter. Yum.
So now my number is nineteen.
I don’t know the current group number. Danny suggested we tally at the end of each month. But I’m guessing we’ll be lucky to get to thirty.
The problem lies somewhat in my own state of torpor. We’ve had a slew of single-digit days temperaturewise. And right now it’s raining. Raining! It’s hard to want to go outside.
I see birds from the car but pass too quickly to allow myself the ID: bluebirds where they always are, black ducks. (The bluebirds would never allow the sighting if I stopped, but I’ve only got my schedule to blame for not jumping out to check on the ducks.)
I am withdrawing into winter. I am not going all sorts of places.
Love that ending! At least you know where you’re not going.
Withdrawing into winter—that is precisely what i want to do..only there is no winter where I live.
Happy New Year, Kate!
Blue herons–wow! Were they around here?
Yes! One on Route 22 going south out of Granville, the other on the rail trail behind my house.
Great last paragraph!
I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you read Border Songs by Jim Lynch (I think). I,ve jsut finished it, and the main character counts birds too. Every time it is mentioned, I thought of you.
I haven’t. I read a previous book of his and really enjoyed it. Did you like this one? I’ve put it on my list!
PS. Blame My iPad for the typos.
Saw some bald eagles on Saturday myself…and a pile of dead songbirds at a conservation dept table.
You do have all year…
Thank GAWD. And it is winter, after all. But if I were a real birder…
Oh IB, go easy on yourself…
Your last comment about being a “real birder” strikes a cord. It is one thing in The Big Year (book) that bothers me. I thought I was a birder. I thought people that chased birds were twitchers.
You should see how easy I’m going on myself today. (I barely remember the “twitcher” stuff—did they use that to mean more amateur birders? Like, say, me? I remember it seemed more nerdy/less professional.) I’ve been enjoying seeing that that’s the book you’re reading…
I’ve not come across twicher in the book. (I had to stop reading it for a while since Dean’s reading a book on my Nook) That’s what they call people who chase rare birds in Britain. I think those are the non-amateur birders.