Matt, Kari, and Alex.
New mexico
We’re still not birding. We’re driving. But, are you familiar with the
lark bunting? It is the state bird of Colorado, a migrating bird,
distinctly colored while it lives out on the plains in the summer, then
migrates south and lives the winter as another indistinct brown bird. We’ve
probably seen a lot of them in south Texas in the winter, but not recognized
them. We’ve seen and identified so many birds, but never the state bird of
Colorado. Well, today that changed. Flying across the road right in front
of us on the wide-open desert plains, distinctive black birds with white
shoulders. Finally, the state bird of Colorado… in New Mexico. Stopped for the Night in Santa Fe. Arrived early enough to meet with a
prospective client, a nonprofit that provides technical support to
environmental organizations all over the Western United States and Canada.
That meeting went well. I think I need to get back on line and check the
licensing requirements in a few more states.
Carlsbad
In all fairness, I should mention the lingering eau de guano fragrance that
accompanies the bat exit from the cave. It’s part of the experience.
Texas
Drove to New Mexico on Monday. Stopped at Carlsbad Caverns for the night.
We’re through birding for a while, so we didn’t stop for birds. We didn’t
stop to descend into the caverns either. We stopped so we could catch the
flight of the bats. It is quite a spectacle this flight of the bats. The
natural entrance to the caverns is an open pit, with a bat observation
amphitheater built into the hill on one side. In the afternoon, this open
pit is filled with cave swallows darting in and out, chirping and swirling
the last of their bug eating business of the day, before they settle down
for the night. The cave swallows are the warm-up act. Just before dark,
the main event begins. Not a single bat. Nothing. Then, suddenly, four
hundred thousand famished insect eating machines. They can’t come out all
at once. They flow. The flowing swirling mass makes it’s way to the sky.
Out of the pit in a counterclockwise swirl, three rotations, forming a
single undulating stream off into the night sky. The stream follows a fluid
path, not like a stream of water, but more like a wandering wisp of smoke,
flowing away, then coming back. When it wanders directly overhead, we’re
bathed in the fluttering of thousands of tiny bat wings. Each bat weighs half an ounce. All these bats together will consume three
tons, the equivalent of three Volkswagen beetles in weight, of insects
tonight. It takes thirty minutes for four hundred thousand bats to blow out
of the cave. They will feed all night, up to forty miles away, and return
by four am. On the way to the bat program, a scott’s oriole flew across the road in
front of us.
Texas
Drove Sunday. Stopped in a forest. Llano River State Park. Had a couple
hours to bird. Can you believe there were more new birds for us to see
there? First off, the purple martins were in the purple martin house.
We’ve seen them before, in Colorado, from a distance. The sighting was so
weak, we didn’t even count it. So, finally, we get to the purple martin
condo that is actually full of purple martins, not house sparrows. That was
worth watching. Checked out the bird blind. Painted buntings around the
feeder like flies. Field sparrow. Clay-colorado sparrow. Nashville
warbler. Yellow breasted chat. Bronzed cowbird. Got a red-shouldered hawk
on a post. An axis deer walked out into a clearing trailed by a line of
wild turkeys. It was like a line of baby ducks following mom. Until they
got out in the open and split up. Scarlet tanager. A vermilion flycatcher
spent hours in our campsite catching bugs and feeding his kid.