I almost succumbed to the Angry Birds temptation. I've had an iPhone for a few months now, ever since a technocaust in the wake of a flooded tent at Yosemite. I'm not much for games on the computer, other than maybe Sudoku. Everyone seems to love it, and it would have been kinda helpful to have a way to pass the time on a flight (and sitting around an airport).
But... Not just yet.
So no Angry Birds for me this past weekend. However, I did have some Mad Birds, as in Madison. No lifers - I had high hopes, but my nemesis remains a nemesis. Still, returning to the midwest meant returning to old friends, and that was wonderful in and of itself.
The wetlands down the block, at sunrise. (click on the pic and check out full size.)
We all know how much fun flying is these days. So for a three day trip I was not going to check bags, which meant the big camera and the scope were staying at home. (There's always room for binoculars, of course.) So I'm going to improvise a bit here, and show you my sightings via a cool birthday gift from my friends. "Our Bird Book" by A.C. Webb is "A nature reader and an educational plan for the study of our common birds. For Use In Schools" It was published in 1917, but was surprisingly forward-thinking for the time. Hawks were not presented as uniformly evil predators, there were sections about threats to birds, and even a short chapter speaking with an older gentleman reminiscing about the Passenger Pigeon (the last of whom died in captivity three years before the book was published).
I took the red-eye, SFO to O'Hare and on to Madison, then off to my dad's house for a quick nap before plunging into a full day of activity. Before my nap, we hung out on the balcony of his apartment for a little bit and he asked me about the "sandpipers" that he saw in the neighborhood. There was no lake nearby, so he wasn't sure how there could be sandpipers. I'd heard Killdeer calling the moment we stepped outside, so that was an easy answer. They were everywhere in the neighborhood, it seemed.
Back on the balcony for some lunch after my nap and more "neighbors" appeared. Dad was surprised to find out that there were goldfinches in the neighborhood; he knew there were lots of little birds around, but he didn't often get a good look at them. Dad has suffered some hearing loss and can't hear high pitched sounds now so he'd never noticed their non-stop chatter, which had caught my ear immediately. (Bonus element in this image is the Indigo Bunting - I had my lifer just two blocks away on a visit several years back.)
That afternoon, we had a nice bike ride. Dad is 79, but still gets in a vigorous walk every morning, and tries to bike as often as possible during the summer months. He moved there in spring of 2010 to be nearer to my youngest brother's family (grandkids keep you young). He took bike rides almost daily, and explored all the trails in the Madison area, and well beyond. We drove to Lake Mills and headed out on a rails-to-trails bike path, the Glacial Drumlin Trail. We kept a leisurely pace, mostly because I was on my mom's ancient 3-speed skinny-tire bike... not the best for riding on pea gravel. But the the slow trip made it easier to spot birds, like the chickadees that seemed to be everywhere along the trail.
Our stately progress was slowed even further when we stopped to take in the view at the two river crossings. Can you spot the 4 great blue herons, great egret, yellowlegs and Cooper's hawk in this scene? They were there, trust me. But that's why you're not getting bird photos this week. It was probably driving my dad crazy that we were moving through at less than half his usual pace, but I sure appreciated having the chance to take in the lovely countryside. We finished the evening with brother and sister-in-law; dinner at Bunky's and some hanging out time afterward (got make the most of that sitter time!)
Saturday morning I went to the Farmer's Market in Madison with brother and family. It's a great market, as any of you who live there know well. It was also fun to see the capitol again, after all the stories of the Walker rebellion. Brother and SIL have similar politics, so they made it a point to show me the famed red balloon in the rotunda, among other landmarks.
Not too many birds at the capitol, other than the usual suspects. Saw some house sparrows munching on popcorn, but then realized it didn't look exactly right. Realized they were eating cheese curds. Srsly.
That afternoon, we went to Devil's Lake - the boys' first visit. They were fascinated by the minnows and the snails. I would have loved to walk some of the trails there - they looked like they went through some nice bits of habitat. But we stayed by the water, so the birds were mostly the kinds who are comfortable around lots of people, like the robins. (I don't think I would have been able to see much on the trails anyway, with my nephews' youthful exuberance alerting the birds long before we got to them.)
The biggest birding treat of the trip came on the drive home. We turned a corner and suddenly found ourselves in the midst of a couple of dozen nighthawks, out hawking in broad daylight. It's been years since I've seen one, and close to 15 years since I've seen them in daylight... and never so many at once. It was a wonderful moment. (and it sparked an amusing conversation about the fact that the nighthawks were out in the day and aren't hawks.)
Sunday morning, my last day there, I got up a bit before dawn and took a walk down to the wetlands nearby. The housing development has done a great job at setting aside open space and restoring (and expanding) some existing wetlands. During my dawn walk, I was treated to lots and lots of birdsong, even though it's late in the season. That morning, I heard birds who'd gone undetected during our previous walks, which were later in the day - grey catbird, common yellowthroat (lots of them!) - and others like cedar waxwings that suddenly showed up in great numbers. A trio of sandhill cranes flying overhead was a perfect cap for the morning.
I wandered a bit beyond the development, into some nearby woods and fields, and came across a familiar voice from my childhood. I wasn't really into birds back then, but jays are bright enough and loud enough to make an impression that lasts. It was fun to have a pair of them keeping up their chatter beside me.
Back for breakfast with dad, then off to join him for his morning walk. We went a different direction around the neighborhood, going past a little stand of hardwoods. I could hear a bunch of interesting stuff, but just couldn't see them. I'm sure there were warblers in the mix, but I really don't know the sounds of eastern warblers. Less confusing was the clear call of the flicker. (maybe I should say the kleer call) Near the end of the walk, the other childhood familiar at long last appeared:
It just wouldn't have been the midwest without a cardinal.