We Went Birdy

About fourteen years ago my wife and I went “birding” for the first time.  That evening, my sweet, foreign born, English-mangling wife informed someone over the phone that we “went birdy.”  Birdy, indeed.  We joined our local Audubon Society on a guided excursion to some nearby habitats.  Following is my journal entry from the day of our birding adventure.

Birdy

Our birding consisted of a country drive out beyond Silver City with many stops at riparian areas, meadows, and mountainsides.  At each stop, groups of people piled out of our six cars and—quietly, mind you—swept the expanse in search of birds with binoculars (by-nok-a-ler in wifespeak).

A typical stop went something like this:

Person Number One:  (Spotting a bird in flight and pointing to the sky above.) Green-necked whooping-swallow in flight.

Everyone Grouped Nearby:    Oooooooh.  (Heads turning.  Me turning the wrong direction.)

Our Guide: If you listen, you can hear a nail-driving monkey-swearing nuthatch.  The sound is distinct.  We are hearing a male arguing against urban sprawl.  Sounds like this. (Makes sounds with exaggerated enunciation.)  Sweet-sweet-soooooweet, chugga-chugga-chugga, whoo-whoo.

Everyone:  (listening intently.)

Me: ?  (Picking up a pretty rock.)

Our Guide:  Non-sticky flycatcher in flight.  (Points.)  A male with poor credit and an unbalanced checkbook.  You can tell them apart from the honey-on-rye flycatcher because the honey-on-rye has wings about a centimeter longer and has an impeccable credit score.

Me: ?  (I throw the rock picked up earlier.)

Wife:  This birdy is pretty fun.  Give me the by-nok-a-ler if you’re not going to use them.

Our Guide:  See that?  (Points to a tree about five miles distant.)   That’s a whoopee-cushion lark.  They prefer Coors beer and build their nest from discarded underwear.

Me:  Is that a gopher over there?  (I thumb through a field guide on birds, then stare in dismay at one of the panels in the guide.)  You mean to tell me that there really is such a thing as a yellow-bellied sapsucker?  Geez, I thought they were only in cartoons.

My favorite birds from the trip were the American goldfinch (a lemon with wings) and the lazuli bunting (a strikingly blue bullet that overwinters in the Southern United States and Mexico).  After seeing the bunting through binoculars I kept saying to everyone when they pointed out a new bird for me: “Well, that’s nice, but it’s certainly no lazuli bunting.”  I suppose that I have become a bird snob.  Another cool thing is when a bunch of little birds mob big birds.  I really enjoyed watching sparrows dive-bombing a raven in midair and chasing the big bird the hell out of there.  And, as a male, I enjoy pointing out how the male birds are more colorful than the females.

Posted is an image of a lazuli bunting.

--Mitchell Hegman