Counting Crows (and other birds)

Pardon me, as one of my nerdy hobbies becomes today’s story.

I took a five-day hiatus from JSOD as part of a couple days vacation to prevent burnout. After a few weeks of no weekends (or only one-day weekends), I badly needed some me time. That included a four-day weekend, in which World Migratory Bird Day was sandwiched between two days of some time with my sons and my hubby, but mostly of rest and down time. God, I’m glad I did that.

And I’m extremely happy that I did the birding big day on Saturday. I was up before 5:00 am and birded all over the county with my buddy Bryce until almost 6:00 pm. Nearby county birding groups, as part of Cornel Lab’s Global Big Day, were having a bit of a friendly competition to see which county teams counted the most birds on May 11.

We started with two Snyder County teams that I knew of, but anyone entering their data on eBird counted toward the total, and it turned out a good number of birders were out in the County that day. Thanks to everyone, we officially counted a total of 135 species in Snyder County in one day. Out of the sixty seven counties in Pennsylvania, we landed solidly in the top ten at number eight! So much fun. Including some surprises like this adult and baby Barred Owl (in two different places):

Now, on a big day, every species counts, not just rarities like the owls or the wood warblers migrating through, but the robins in your yard, the cardinals, grackles, and starlings as well. Did you know there are two species of crows in Pennsylvania? Fish Crow and American Crow. Most of us can only tell the difference when we hear them call. The fish crow is more nasal in its sound, and often can be heard telling you no with a sort of two note “uh uh.”

So, to bring a long story to a quick close and a bad punch line, you could say that Saturday, I wasn’t here because I was literally out counting crows.

And so, of course, today’s song of the day has to be by them. Now, I know that Mr. Jones was out birding on Saturday. Maybe not in Snyder County, but statistically speaking, a small percentage of the nearly 60,000 people birding on Global Big Day just had to be named Jones. Right?

What Does the Fox Say?

While out birding sometime probably in May last year at one of my favorite wooded spots, I noticed movement on the hill in the woods ahead of me. There were four or five red fox kits chasing each other up and down a deer path halfway up the small ridge ahead of me. One or two scooted in and back out of what appeared to be a den there, and that’s when I noticed staring back at me, one of their parents. I was quite a distance away and had just crossed the stream below the hill, but she (I’ll say she, because I just sensed it was a protective mama) was staring at me staring at her through my binoculars.

I nodded my head as if to say, “sorry to bother you, mam,” and moved on. Though I looked for them later through the summer, I never saw them again. I’ve had quite a few good fox sightings in my life, but that was one of the coolest.

So, it was a broad theme this week, animals, either in the band’s name or in the title of the song, but what I found weird was that it was seriously difficult to find a women’s group named after an animal. There were the Pussycat Dolls, but I have them in mind for something else sometime soon. Kate Bush sings of going to sleep and dreaming of sheep and Tori Amos even has a song about oysters, but the pickings were slim for female related material this week. I guess men really are more like animals.

By the way, I apologize for this song if you haven’t heard it before, and if you have, I apologize even more profusely, but what a great finale for a week on animals, right? I had no idea where this song came from back in 2013 or 14, but suddenly everyone was singing in this annoying high pitch, “What does the FOX say?” At the time I couldn’t understand how this tune climbed the charts. It had to be a joke, right?

Well, yes, David. Yes, it was a joke, and that’s why it took off. I see that now that I’ve finally sat down and watched this goofy video and had a good giggle to myself. It was a busy week, I hope you have a lovely weekend ahead of you. Who knows what our next “accidental” theme will be on Jeff’s Song of the Day. Here’s the comedy duo Ylvis singing “The Fox.”

Surprised by Meadowlarks

My first Eastern Meadowlark of the year was this weekend, and I got treated to great views and songs at two different locations in the county. I was suffering from what I thought were spring allergies (no fever, negative 19 tests, all that), but it may have been a spring cold, because, now Brian has the sneezes and stuffy head and chest. Poor guy. I still tried to get out as many days as I could this last week because generally, the more I was up and moving around, the better I felt, but dang was it cold and windy this weekend.

Above Image by Johnny Gunn from Pixabay

The weekend also brought Northern Shovelers to my county list and the sighting of my nemesis bird this year, the snipe! Yes. It exists. I know it’s a joke, and my own brothers have played it on me. That old story where they leave you somewhere in the dark with a bag and a flashlight. They told me to just snap the bag with my fingers periodically and say, “Here, Snipe! Here, Snipe!” Meanwhile, they ran off to get into whatever trouble older brothers can get up to. Have I already told you this story? Probably.

The prank probably has its history in the fact that snipes really are difficult to find. But they are not out at night on the edge of a campground parking lot, that’s for sure. They like wet grassy fields, if a stream is soaking up a farm field with tufts of grasses all around, you’re in business. My friends Jessie and Bryce both found them at this particular field where, even with their help, the birds eluded me. Finally one showed up while I was watching the meadowlarks and I was overjoyed. I never would have seen the little bugger had he not lifted off from the grasses on one side of the road to land in the field on the other. There he/she completely disappeared. Check out their camo and that bill!

So, my friend Joel and I were looking for Meadowlark songs last night and I was surprised that there were so many. There’s Adam Young, the guy from Owl City, who released his latest album, Coco Moon, just one year ago. You probably know him best by his electronic magic in “Fireflies.” Coco Moon goes a more spiritual route than his previous albums and includes an old story about two enemies who meet in a field and show each other mercy because of the Meadowlarks singing. You can hear that song here.

Fleet Foxes, who we heard from earlier this year with “White Winter Hymnal,” has a haunting tune called “Meadowlarks.” I found a cool live performance, but the shaking of the cell phone video of the was disconcerting. They’ll be in Harrisburg in June, and now I’m thinking of maybe going.

But the one I’m featuring today is from a maybe obscure musical called The Baker’s Wife. Here it is sung by Lindsay Mendez who played Elphaba (“Gravity”) on Broadway. Her voice is just so amazing. Thanks for the suggestion, Joel! I hope you enjoy this Monday Musical feature of “Meadowlarks.”

Not that Kingston Town, Music from UB40

It’s been one year and a handful of days since I moved here, and already I’m ranked in the top 12 eBirders of all time for the county. Keep in mind, there are only 39,000 people in Snyder, the majority of the land is farmed, and though eBird started in 2002, it probably didn’t really take off with the majority of birders until the mid 2010’s. I didn’t start keeping lists there until the pandemic when I had some serious time on my hands and a need to get into the woods.

I’ve taken that pastime into the woods and farmland here in Snyder County, and I’ve met some great birders here. If that word, birder, confuses you, think of bird watcher, but more than just watching. It includes birding by ear (what birds are you hearing where you are?), and searching out rarities and first-of-the year sightings. I think bird watchers can be called birders, though too, even if they are limited to watching the feeders from their windows. I’m just grateful that I can take some time before or after work and witness what winged creatures live or pass through nearby.

In Snyder County, Pennsylvania, according to eBird, the number one birder (by species count) for this year is an enthusiastic young woman named Jessie. Jockeying for the number two spot are my old college buddy Bryce and me, but it’s friendly competition and we all enjoy birding together frequently.

Two of my favorite spots to bird before I moved here were near the town of Kingston. One across the river in an overgrown, abandoned trailer park, and one south of town near Plymouth, referred to locally as “the flats.” That’s where the photo above was taken.

Wait, no, not near the sunny Kinston in the Caribbean, and not the Plymouth with the germ encrusted rock. No, I’m talking about Luzerne County, Pennsylvania where I’ve logged 170 species of birds.

I know that’s not the place that UB40 is singing about in today’s tune, but then again . . . who knows? By the way, recent bird sightings in Kingston, Jamaica include a Smooth-billed Ani and a Black-necked Stilt, but also birds I can see right here in Pennsylvania, like the Mourning Dove, the Turkey Vulture, and the Green Heron. I’m telling you, these birds get around—have wings will travel. Maybe even to the Kingston of Southern Australia as well.

Where would you like to go on this Thursday? If you don’t have wings, why not let the music take you? How about back to 1989 with UB40 and “Kingston Town!”

Honeybee, by the Head and the Heart

My buddy Bryce and I were out birding recently, looking for Northern Harriers and Horned Larks in the farm fields, hoping for a glimpse of Snow Buntings or a Short-eared Owl. Such is winter birding in rural Pennsylvania. We did find a couple of beautiful harriers, like the one in the photo.

Bryce and I stopped at a road-side stand and bought some homemade jam and goat soap. Nobody was monitoring the till or anything. There are prices posted on card paper and a lock box to slip your money into. It’s on the honor system. We spent about 10 bucks and then joked about how birders were good for the local economy. It didn’t hurt that we spotted an American Kestrel, the smallest falcon on the continent, wagging his tail on a wire right there at the bend in the road where we’d stopped. I guess we wanted to pay someone back for our good fortune.

About a week later I was on my own, driving slowly along nearby fields, looking for the larks that he had reported the day before while I was at work. I was about to give up when suddenly a flock of 16 of them flew right over my car. I pulled off the road nearby to observe them from a distance through my spotting scope.

Wouldn’t you know it, at the end of the lane, across the road from where I pulled over, was another farm stand. This one was selling local honey, so of course I had to buy a jar to celebrate my first Horned Larks of the year. I slipped a five into the slot and went home happy.

What does any of this have to do with today’s song of the day? I don’t know. I went looking for birds and bought a jar of local honey. My birding hobby is good for the soul and good for my mental health, good for the head and the heart, you might say. And that’s the name of the band bringing us a bit of early spring today. If there’s a metaphor to find here, I’ll leave that to you. I’ve got to get to work.

Here’s the Head and the Heart with “Honeybee.”

Ghost Story

As I was leaving the woods this evening, I was playing some owl recordings, hoping to have one call back to me. The procedure is to start with smaller owls first. Northern Screech Owl, then on up to larger owls like Barred and Great Horned. The reason is that if a smaller owl hears a larger owl, it will hunker down and be quiet in order to prevent itself from becoming dinner for the larger one.

I was almost back to my car at the nearby Trail of Trees when I thought I heard a far off Great Horned Owl’s deep hooting. I stopped to listen, but only when I finally resumed walking did I catch a ghost of the sound again. In the end, it was too distant and faint for me to be sure that it wasn’t just my imagination or a trick of the wind.

I submit poems to a lot of literary journals and online lit mags. Sometimes there is a “themed” call, and those tend to annoy me. It usually takes some time for me to craft something I’m happy with, and it doesn’t help for someone else to give me ideas. Generative workshops are rarely helpful for me, at least if they are the kind of writing classes that seek to help me come up with ideas to write about. My problem is usually too many ideas, too many abandoned lines on scrap paper or in old notebooks, half cooked ideas dying in Google Docs.

However, when the theme is something that I’ve already written about, or better yet, when the venue encourages the writer to interpret the theme in any way they see fit, well that opens things up a bit, and it helps me to look at what I’ve written in a different light. Is this love poem, really a ghost story? Could I make it into one, “loosely interpreted?”

That’s what I’m doing with today’s song by Sting. We talked about Halloween themed songs, and this one came to mind. It’s perhaps less known than other tracks from his album Brand New Day, which was released on September 27th, 1999, but it’s one of my favorites. It’s also one of the few I feel comfortable singing for an audience. Here is Sting at A Winter’s Night, live from Durham Cathedral, recorded in December of 2009, with today’s Song of the Day: “Ghost Story.”

By the way, I’m sorry that today’s song is coming to you so late. I needed some mental health, self-care time in the woods this weekend. The photo on today’s post is one I took this evening before turning for home.

Lost On You

Digi-scoped photo of a PA rarity, a juvenile Swainson’s Hawk

I’ll give you a bit of an update on brother Jeff tomorrow, but he’s doing better than I expected and the legal hoops we’re having to jump through are progressing. The important thing is that aside from the dementia, he’s gaining weight, keeping healthy, getting outside in a secure place, and surprisingly, he seems happy.

Sometimes on Jeff’s old Song of the Day emails, he’d simply say, “I got nothin'” and then share the song. That’s a bit how I feel today. Works been good but busy, I’ve seen two lifer birds this month, an American Flamingo (off course, thanks to a hurricane) and this week, a Swainson’s Hawk who should be migrating south or eating bugs on the plains out west—both in Pennsylvania! But this morning, my brain feels muddy and ready for a nap.

I was ready to drop this wonderful song on you from 2016 by an artist L.P. when I discovered that yesterday she came out with another video that I may have to play for you another time. Let’s let my tired head stick to the plan. And what she does with her voice? Wow. This live version is my favorite, and you can find me singing it to myself just about anytime.

Wonder

Forgive me, there are several images and a couple of very short (less than a minute) clips before we get to the song of the day. Yesterday I told you that I’d talk more about the hawk watching trip, and boy, howdy was it awesome. Really it was only a few days of what we call a “staycation” and checking out a local scenic overlook for its potential as a hawk watch site. I talked a bit last week about how it works, but to quickly summarize, updrafts off the ridges of central Pennsylvania in the fall create an easier flight path southward for migrating raptors. And Broad-winged Hawks, like the one in the photo by hawk watcher David Brown and those in the video below, often congregate together on their journey, passing through Pennsylvania in mid September.

If you’re lucky and get the right spot on the right wind, you can see quite a few in one day. I only had a few on Wednesday along with several Sharp-shinned Hawks and Bald Eagles, but Micah and I had 70 Broad-wings on Thursday and a whopping 519 in a four hour period on Friday! It was an amazing experience, and a nice validation on my gut and research when it comes to the lookout spot. We didn’t go on Saturday because we knew a wedding was booked (there’s a big altar on the mountainside), and we thought my running around behind the wedding shouting “45, 46, 47, 48, holy F@*$!” would probably not be appreciated by the wedding party.

Photo by ©David Brown, used by permission of the photographer.

I think the biggest problem we humans have when it comes to “nature” (how’s that for a segue?) is that we see nature as something apart from ourselves. In high school and middle school there was an entire genre of literature based on the concept of “man against nature.” It’s an attitude, a point of view, that has permeated our modern culture, and only in recent years do I see a more general move away from it.

Maybe it comes from the idea that humans were to “subdue” the animals and the plants, to name them and have “have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth” (Genesis 1: 26). More likely, it came from humans having to survive everything that seemed to be out to kill them, not to mention the need to eat, and maybe god in our image made sense in that way, made things easier? Sorry, too philosophical. Moving on!

The first photo below is the view from in front of the altar on Shade Mountain (the sign says Mount Pisgah). We chose to mostly watch from there, but we even had hawks behind us just streaming, one after another clear back to the parking lot. I don’t know what it is about altars and hawk watches. Jack’s Mountain Hawk Watch has a much smaller one, but also with a cross on it. I suspect it’s that sense of wonder you feel looking out on such an amazing view. When stepping out onto the platform at Stone Mountain Hawk Watch, my friend Harold was so overcome he nearly whispered, “This is a holy place.”

Me checking the place out after work back in August . . .

Here’s a cellphone view of the sort of thing we saw. They were streaming in (like they do in the end of this clip) and moving a bit too fast for me to both count and get a decent video this time, but it gives you an idea.

Some of us think of the wonders of nature and the stunning thought that life came this far, of us even being here at all, and some of us are moved to praise God for his beautiful creation. Either way, unbeliever, or devotee, we share a sense of wonder. Well, here’s something to think on then: You too are a wonder. You are a natural being, just like the birds and the bears. Whether created or evolved, you are amazing.

So, enjoy the song of the day that you probably already know, by Natalie Merchant: “Wonder.” And have a great Monday.

Float On

A bit of music from Modest Mouse this Sunday for you! Thanks for being patient while I took my first break for a few days from Jeff’s Song of the Day.

I’m back from several days of birding around surrounding counties and a longer drive down to Franklin County, Pennsylvania where a couple of Florida Flamingos recently landed. That’s right, the American Flamingo, a bird usually seen in places like Florida Bay, the Yucatan, and Cuba have been sighted in Pennsylvania. In fact, they have been sighted in ten states now, including Ohio, New Jersey, and Delaware, after Hurricane Idalia knocked a bunch of them off course.

According to NPR, Nate Swick from the American Birding Association says that they got caught in the storm and just “kinda went with it.” This has happened in the past, but apparently not reported across such a wide range. Swick believes they will eventually make their way home.

The plot thickened in Pennsylvania last week when one of the two birds spotted in Franklin County, near St. Thomas, PA, got bit by a snapping turtle and was taken by a concerned birder to a wildlife rehab center. We hope that it gets reunited with it’s partner, mate, friend, whatever their relation, soon.

Micah and I took a break from our hawk watching on the ridge top of Shade Mountain (more about that tomorrow!) to make the hour and a half drive from Snyder County to see the remaining flamingo. These are my own photos and video, taken through my spotting scope with an iPhone 12 Pro, and then cropped and enlarged. I’m not photographer, so just google Pennsylvania Flamingos and you’ll find lots of high quality pictures from others.

There near Tuscarora Ridge, in the farmlands of Franklin County, on Long Lane Pond, we found the flamingo, along with a nearby foraging Killdeer and a Wilson’s Snipe (yes, snipes are real birds, and maybe I have a story to tell from my childhood about snipe hunts and my brothers sometime).

Modest Mouse, “Float On” and some important lyrics right after the flamingo . . .

As we hope the other flamingo heals soon, the general opinion is that most of the birds flung into northern states will eventually make their way back, let’s ponder on the lyrics of today’s song. Some difficult stuff has happened to a lot of us lately, but we’re floating on, and there’s a darn good chance we’ll be okay.

I backed my car into a cop car the other day
Well, he just drove off, sometimes life’s okay
I ran my mouth off a bit too much, oh, what did I say?
Well, you just laughed it off, it was all okay

. . .

Bad news comes, don’t you worry even when it lands
Good news will work its way to all them plans
We both got fired on exactly the same day,
That we were gonna quit it anyways

I Like Birds

No, seriously, that’s the name of the song. “I Like Birds,” by Eels. Not THE Eels, just Eels. I first heard the song while watching the 2011 film The Big Year, staring Steve Martin, Jack Black, and Owen Wilson. It’s based on a nonfiction book by the same title that I finally read this year. I should say that it’s loosely based on the book.

Since this first week of the new Jeff’s Song of the Day, I’ve been mentioning some details from the trip my brother Denny and I took to see Jeff and get him some heath related help, this song has been on my mind. We didn’t really know what we would find, since Jeff wasn’t answering his calls or able to get into his email, so we just drove down as soon as we could manage it. Hoping for the best, we thought we might get a chance to see a few sights, but other than taking Jeff to the local botanical gardens and stopping by a town park, there really wasn’t any time for sight seeing or, in my case, birding.

I saw a bunch of Cattle Egrets, my first Anhinga, and my first Mississippi Kite (because it flew over our hotel). I also saw a small flock of Roseate Spoonbills that were foraging in a large puddle along the roadside while Dennis was driving. But our, and by our I mean my, thin hopes of spending a morning at the local Still Water Conservation Area just wasn’t possible. It was too critical to get Jeff help, and there just wasn’t time or energy for my favorite hobby.

I did, however, manage to make Denny nervous more than once while on the road while I was trying to identify whatever bird was flying over, or distinguish between Turkey Vultures and Black Vultures. “They all look like black vultures to me,” Dennis said at one point. 😆

So here’s today’s song of the day, a bit more modern than the first three, but I’d like to think Jeff would like it. I’ll play it for him next time I see him.