Friday, April 16, 2010

And I Know We're All Heading For That Adult Crash



Male Rufous Hummingbird.  Dapper.


That's right, I'm starting things right off with a line from one of the (arguably, of course) most legendary and defining songs in the history of punk rock.....Minor Threat, by the band of the same name.  A couple members, notably Ian MacKaye and Brian Baker, went on to play in Dag Nasty, Embrace, Government Issue, Fugazi, Bad Religion....bands that, along with Minor Threat, helped define the sound of a generation.  So I'm not surprised that you expect the blog of the generation, right now.....

But that's not going to happen.  At least, not yet.  While BB&B has undoubtedly reached an iconic status, a sort of Zeitgeist for today's birders (and anti-birders), this is still a democracy, not some sort of nerdy totalitarian advice column.  That aside, we here at BB&B headquarters are primarily concerned with the thoughts, opinions and actions of one Seagull Steve and The Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive, and so without further ado, we give you The Update.

I've been gone since Sunday, surveying in the Catalinas, Huachucas, the San Pedro River and Sonoita Creek.  Year birds were Red Crossbills on Mt Lemmon, Red-faced Warbler and Montezuma Quail (heard only) in the Huachucas, Lucifer's Hummingbird in Ash Canyon, Summer Tanagers at Patagonia (and calling outside as I type this), and a Calliope Hummingbird at the Paton's, which, if I dare say.....was absolutely delightful.  More immediately, my feet smell putrid, which while unsurprising....is kind of a bummer.

Speaking of which, our entire crew has established niches for ourselves.  We have The Aloof One, The Dilligent One, The Benevolent One, The Sullen One......and me, The Bummer.  I cannot tell you how proud it makes me to be known as The Bummer, and I will strive to continue to remind you all that life is pain.  Take that to heart.



A "Gray-headed" Dark-eyed Junco in the bush is worth two in the hand.

Lets see, what else.....oh, we have lots of White-winged Doves around who call frequently.  The pneumonic translation for their call is who-cooks-for-you?  Well, being socially isolated and whatnot, I have taken to answering them all the time, so people are frequently confused when we're standing around silently and all of a sudden I blurt out "I cook for you", responding to some distant dove.  Seeing as I'm not out here to impress anyone (read as: since I havent had a good in-person conversation with a girl since February), this seems like a perfectly reasonable habit to be falling into.  It has become readily apparent, in fact, that I have had less contact with the opposite sex since this job started than any other period in my entire life, ironically including my stint on Midway Atoll, which is as far away from civilization as you can get......

Hmm, well, it seems things are getting a bit weird, aren't they?  Well, as The Good Doctor put it......"when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro".


Ok.  I have to work tomorrow, but ya'll have a good weekend.  All of today's photos were taken 20 feet from my house.


Painted Redstarts make the world a better place.  Fittingly, they are very difficult to get a clear photo of....

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