You Call, but You Never Show [Desperately Seeking the Ringed Kingfisher]

The river is such a tranquil place, 

a place to sit and think of romance and the beauty of nature, 

to enjoy the elegance of swans 

and the chance of a glimpse of a kingfisher.

~ Jane Wilson-Howarth, Snowfed Waters

Friday:

I timed my drive to the ponds. You know which ponds - the ones where the wild birds are.

People have reported seeing a Ringed Kingfisher* every few days for a month or so.

I have heard it call - three times now.** But for one reason or another I have not seen the bird. 

So once again I geared up and headed down the little road. I stopped to take a few photos that will frustrate. The ponds are drying up a bit and the birds are (mostly) too far for my camera. I began to hear the call of a Red-shouldered Hawk. It wasn't flying, but perched somewhere among the foliage. I never saw it.

Upon drawing-up between the two tanks - the turtle pond and the tank on the inside of the turn - I began to hear the metallic rattle that is the call of the Ringed Kingfisher. I continued slowly, eyes-peeled, excitement rising...only to see a large bird fly across the road towards the large pond to the south. This is the "impenetrable" pond. It is surrounded by brush/trees and almost impossible to see. It was bound to be the kingfisher moving on to another pond.

I continued down the road, almost to the end. Then I heard a different call that I knew well. It was the Pileated Woodpecker. Almost before the call stopped I saw the bird fly across the road and into a stand of willow trees bordering the pond where I had watched Black-bellied Whistling Ducks raise a brood three years ago. I tried to find the woodpecker, but the foliage was too thick.

As I drove away the kingfisher continued to call its rattling cry from the south pond and two Red-shouldered hawks called.

Some days it has to be enough to be out in the wild, hear birds calling, and simply know you are out there together.

Saturday:

I started later than I had planned. One of the local birders was stopped. He said they had seen a few Belted Kingfishers, the Ringed Kingfisher, and the Vermilion Flycatcher. Of course they did. I guess I was too late for most of the birds, but I would drive down to the end of the road anyway and I would later see some of the photos taken that day - amazing.***

The birder, SS (the elder) and I talked about things we'd seen at the ponds, other birders, cameras and equipment and where we report observations (he's an e-Bird while I mostly iNat).

I did see the Belted Kingfishers. They were fussing and moving around a good bit. I'm not even sure what other photos I took - probably egrets and herons - but there was no Ringed Kingfisher for me on this day and I started writing this post. I was going to have to be patient.

Sunday:

Today I was meeting OC for breakfast and a movie. Leaving the house early I hit the bank and the gas station and debated a trip to the ponds before the 35 minute drive. I calculated that I had exactly 10 minutes to look for birds.

A big part of the decision-making was what I call my "rule of observation." The best/most exotic/sought after creature will appear on the day when the batteries die, the memory card is left at home, I'm running out of gas, and/or there is no time to look. So, with 10 minutes to look, fate was screaming that the kingfisher would be there and maybe, just maybe, waiting.

I saw few birds in the first couple of ponds. Then I noticed another birder and slowed down so I would not blow-by and frighten whatever he was looking at. He walked towards my car, motioned to a large bird, and indicated it was a juvenile Bald Eagle.

Look at those feet!

It's that beak!

I told him I would take a shot or two and move along to get out of his way.

I headed down the road and saw the Belted Kingfishers once again. They sat on the utility line and looked at each other. Calm for a moment, they started fretting and fussing.

Belted Kingfishers

Here you can see one fussing at the other.

Continuing on down the road I looked up to see a long line of Cave Swallows on another utility line and, a little further, the Ringed Kingfisher. I slowed and angled the car to take some shots half-hanging out of the window. I did not want to lose the bird trying for a closer shot (bird-in-the-hand).  Only then did I feel comfortable closing ground for a couple more shots before turning around (quite short of the bird) as I knew the other birder might want to see it as well. [I've just seen his photos - amazing.]

Ringed Kingfisher 

As our vehicles were about to pass by I let him know where the three kingfishers were. He shared that the flycatcher was back. And I discovered he was SS (the younger), the son of the birder from Friday.

I got to take a look at my photos (posted here) this afternoon. They certainly tell the story -- and they are good enough for me this time. But perhaps most surprisingly, they were all taken within six minutes. Maybe I should have called this post "Six Minutes at the Ponds." Whatever. It was an amazing six minutes.

NOTES:

* https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/ringed-kingfisher

** See above or just trust me. It is a "metallic" clacking. Once you have heard it (and I have) you cannot forget it.

*** I would also discover that the younger SS is married to one of the young women who was in my scout troop about 25 years ago. I'm feeling old.
 

The Kites

"There is a trick to flying. The angels told me." 

He had smiled at my wide-eyed awe. 

"You need to forget everything you know as a human being. 

When you are human, you discover that there is great power in hating the earth. 

And it can almost make you fly. But it never will."
I had frowned, not quite understanding him. 

"So, what's the trick?"
"Love the sky.”
― Anne Fortier, Juliet

I call them "ghost birds" as they perch in their plumage of multi-soft grey and look out on the world through red/brown eyes from dark sockets. Sometimes you cannot see their eyes - only black holes. They have high-pitched calls...and can even be aggressive towards humans. I suspect that is if the nests are threatened. I've never been threatened - only awed.

There was a family in the park this summer, but I never saw more than five at a time.

Do you want to see the 50 Mississippi Kites flying over my house? texted my neighbor.

"I'm coming," I replied.

She lives about two blocks away and we have talked about and enjoyed watching the flight of kites in the neighborhood park in years past. Kites are so graceful. She knew I'd want to see them.

My head couldn't quite get around the idea of 50 Mississippi Kites in one place. What were they doing? Was it some kind of migratory event? How did they find each other? 

The smaller birds were acting "wiggy" - flying off in all directions - seemingly afraid. Kites are not after them, are they? I thought kites ate insects - grasshoppers and cicadas. We certainly have those in numbers, but birds? [Kites do, in fact, eat birds and small mammals. I should have known.]

Finally I saw a kite...then five...then 15, but not 50.

One Mississippi Kite

I looked for a clear spot to see more sky. 

Yes, I was the crazy lady in clothes spotted-with-clay-and-supper turning around and around in the park looking up at the sky (and taking photos). I turned again and gasped. There they were...30, 40, 50 kites all flying in and out of the group. It was like a cloud of kites moving over and then off to the west/northwest.

"Oh, my God!" I texted my friend. "Thanks!"

"It was magical! I'm glad you saw them. I knew you'd love it," she replied.

"I've got some bad photos," I said.

"But you have good memories," she countered.

Their flight is wonderful to watch.

I couldn't get a shot of the entire group.

So I stopped taking photos and counted. I stopped at 50.

A Visit to Chaetura Canyon - Long Overdue

He watched their flight; 

bird after bird: 

a dark flash, a swerve, a flutter of wings. 

He tried to count them 

before all their darting quivering bodies passed: 

six, ten, eleven: 

and wondered were they odd or even in number. 

Twelve, thirteen: 

for two came wheeling down from the upper sky. 

They were flying high and low 

but ever round and round in straight and curving lines 

and ever flying from left to right, 

circling about a temple of air.
~James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

My mother and her best friend always stayed in touch. I know they spoke of their children - what we were all doing. And the grandchildren too would have been the subject of conversation. But I imagine their thoughts and conversation also included those long ago days when they were girls together, giggling in the halls at school, hiding minor misdeeds from the sisters, and flying down the streets of their town on their bicycles - playing cards clacking in the spokes, hair streaming behind them like feathers.

Our mothers some of their classmates in the main square of their home town. [They met in first grade. This looks like high school.]

In their later years one of the "children" (SJ) invited them both to Chaetura Canyon* for bird banding. Mother called me and described the feeling of holding a bird - its heart beating as she gently released it back into the air. Those memories joined the others becoming part of the magic of their friendship.

DH and I met Paul and Georgean Kyle,  the guardians of Chaetura Canyon, a couple of years ago at a birding event (at SJ's house - no surprise) and they invited us for a visit. They spoke so kindly about Mom and shared that there was a memorial at the sanctuary. But something always interfered with a visit - until yesterday. [The literature calls them "stewards," but I think "guardians" fits as well.] Chaetura is a green oasis surrounded by development. It is an amazing place.

Looking off the deck towards the gorge (on the other side is a huge development).

The trip to the canyon is an adventure in itself for us - down the highway to a toll way, through subdivisions, across the road below the dam, along a route carefully described because Google Maps will get you lost (I've heard about such out-of-the-way-spots before). Upon arrival we took a short tour with SJ (of course he would be there). He showed us the memorials to our mothers - a brick, a bench, and a water feature. We took some photos to share with family and friends.

The fountain/birdbath. The bowl is cast with the impression of a giant zucchini leaf.

The bench.

We also visited the bird blind - sitting and talking quietly while the birds visited us (Okay, the birds were visiting the feeders, but it was as if they were coming to greet us.) - a number of American Goldfinches, a raggedy Northern Cardinal (they are molting right now), and a Ruby-throated Hummingbird, among others. The nicest outdoor restroom I have ever seen sits just to the side of the blind. This is birding in luxury.

The bird blind is quite large. No, they do not generally serve wine. There were extra binoculars and SJ asked if I had brought my camera. I had not - trying not to "obsess" for a day - I ended up taking a ridiculous number of bad cell photos anyway.

DH checking out the facilities.

Then we briefly headed down a trail, past a pond (where later, as the light faded, we heard leopard frogs "purring and chattering") and back to the deck for supper. This was one of two events held each year to introduce people to the sanctuary and its work.

Part of the path

It's a canyon. There will be stairs.

A lovely spot to sit

I did record the leopard frog and got a glimpse as it jumped into the water.

After dinner there were only a few minutes to visit with our new friends** before the Chimney Swifts began to arrive. I was sitting near two young women (one of whom was celebrating her birthday with this event). "They are here," she exclaimed. "Do you hear them?" Yes, we did. It is amazing to see hundreds of birds gather and fly into the chimneys (there are cameras to capture the actual roost).  

A special camera inside the tower allowed us to watch the swifts enter and roost. They continued to "jockey for position."

Paul and Georgean have been studying the swifts for years, working with like-minded people, to stop the decline in the Chimney Swift population. Tonight was an opportunity to educate others (about 50 or so last night) about these unique birds. Most of us were new to this view of Chimney Swifts. We took pictures - and made memories.

I can understand why our mothers loved the place and the people. We do too. And we will be back. 

NOTES:

* Chaetura Canyon Sanctuary is the product of the hard work, imagination, and dedication of the Kyles. They donated it to Travis County Audubon. You can read more about the sanctuary - its history, and opportunities to visit here: https://travisaudubon.org/sanctuaries/chaetura-canyon

** The parents of the man seated to my right met in La Rochelle, France - where DH went to elementary school - small world. The woman sitting across from me was interested in learning more about birding "apps" we use and some of the organizations that sponsor birding trips. We told stories. There are always stories. 

Final notes:

There is art everywhere - especially in the remembrances:

Feathers imprinted.

 

 

The Gift -- It Was More Than a Birding Trip

Black-capped Vireo (photo by Hunter Yarbrough)

The invitation arrived not long after a bird banding in July at Fort Hood.* Would some of our fellow naturalists/citizen scientists** want to return with us for another bird banding? DH and I were already planning to get back for a Christmas bird count (and any other bird trip we could find). We knew we would have others ready to go as well. The sign-up list was full almost as soon as the notice went out. September couldn't get here fast enough.

Mid-September is the end of the banding season for Black-capped Vireos. They will soon be heading south for the winter. It is definitely the last banding in the immediate vicinity of today's event because a controlled burn is scheduled for the coming week.***

Dr. David Cimprich, Field Biologist

The team of biologists, lead by Dr. David Cimprich, was much smaller today than in June because the seasonal crew is gone. Rounding out today's team were Scott Summers, Nick Glover, and Wendy Deptula (Wendy is part of the seasonal crew who came back today to help-out and bring a guest).

Our group of naturalists was smaller as well which allowed for more interaction and the opportunity to ask more questions. [I suspect it is similar to when I've led hikes - a smaller group is usually more satisfying for everyone. We aren't tripping over each other and we can establish communication much more readily. I'll bet it is easier on the birds, as well - less movement and noise, if nothing else.] Whatever the case, it was a very personal experience.

Wendy and Nick process a bird.

This team has a precise and organized process for banding. The mist nets are set and monitored. Birds are brought to the tables in small bags. Team members examine, identify, measure, weigh, band, and record data. They are a proficient, professional, and efficient bunch. 

DH, Scott Summers (who helped coordinate with us - a super host) and Dr. Cimprich

Throughout the process the "civilians" are engaged, walking step-by-step along with the team. Questions are answered. Birds are released.

But something else is happening here - it is beyond the "show and tell" title they use. Dr. Cimprich clearly loves his work and takes humble delight in sharing it with birders of all ages and skill levels.****  Each member of his team has that same enthusiasm, that spark of joy (I don't know how else to describe it). 

They are a calm bunch - not emotional, but confident. And every now and then one could see a small smile appear on the face of a team member as a participant registered awe in holding and releasing of a bird, or "got" a concept that was being explained, or jotted down notes about something new.  And there was something in their eyes - a flash of recognition and that smiley-squint of satisfaction. Then, with a nod, we were on to the next thing.

The team's respect for the birds and concern for their well-being was clear and paramount  (concern about and efforts to avoid stressing the birds was discussed repeatedly). Their ability to complete the technical tasks while answering questions/demonstrating techniques/sharing their knowledge with a rag-tag bunch of strangers strikes me as pretty special. 

Once needle nose pliers, these now crimp a metal band "just enough."

Dr. Cimprich patiently explained detailed bird anatomy - among other things there was talk of color patterns, bird fingers, and the role of different feathers in flight. "What else can I show you?" Cimprich asked aloud - as much to himself as to the group. He demonstrated the tools of banding - many fabricated "from something else" for this specialized use (imagine that - scientists "making do"). Occasionally a detail would seem to delight him and we were delighted in turn - to be party to that moment. 

 

Over and over different members of the team patiently demonstrated the correct "hold"***** and technique for releasing the birds safely and then watched while someone released one of these tiny wild creatures back into the air.

I struggle for the right words to describe these few hours. But it was a gift. It was a gift to observe these scientists do their work with such love and attention and to experience their generosity as they shared this morning with us. It was a gift to see our fellow naturalists experience the banding and broaden their knowledge. How lucky are we.

Bird Banders' bible

NOTES: 

*https://walkinthepark-padimus.blogspot.com/2019/07/a-band-of-birders-go-bird-banding.html

**Good Water Chapter, Texas Master Naturalists - https://txmn.org/goodwater/ [DH and I especially enjoyed attending with such a diverse group - good friends, new birders, experienced birders, some folks who have volunteered with us in the past, people who have led us on birding hikes, a Junior Master Naturalist, and some members who were new to us. It was a great group.]

***Explanation of controlled burning - https://www.fs.usda.gov/detail/dbnf/home/?cid=stelprdb5281464

****Our group included new birders and experienced birders. There were people present who are experienced in bird banding, some who lead bird watching expeditions, and some who are "just learning the ropes." All were welcomed.

*****A comment on the "hold" shown in many of the photos: It is a banders' grip and it is the best and safest grip for working with small to medium sized birds. Additional information can be found in the Mist Netters Safety Handbook  https://www.birdpop.org/docs/pubs/Smith_et_al_1997_Mist_Netters_Bird_Safety_Handbook.pdf  and The North American Banders' Study Guide http://anilhagemdeaves.weebly.com/uploads/2/7/7/6/2776574/namstudyguide.pdf 

We caught a couple of Northern Cardinals. They were molting and looking a bit rough.

FINAL NOTE: 

Special thanks to the team - David, Scott, Nick, and Wendy. You rock!