LONGVIEW, TEXAS –

retreating after papers,
fire ants kept me moving till i settled on a heap of dirt

buntings bluebirds noisy nestlings
robins take me to ohio

i played with dirt
   first because i didn’t think
   then because i did
   then because soft, cool

two bikes
i started acting natural–
   i’m just sitting here on a dirt pile

he asked if i built them
and i felt like a myth resting on the mountains
   after piling up the world

no

calling first
   five nighthawks
   spread and high
why do i always think of qadar–

i’d better go–
because of the lights, not the dark

mockingbird wonders what’s right with the world

EAST TEXAS — After another too-short night, I met Spence and Courtney in the Thomas lobby at 7. On our way out of campus, we stopped by Shroud and Bev’s apartment to check on the House Finch nestlings.

The three surviving nestlings continue growing quickly.

As we began our walk down the iron bridge road, the scent of honeysuckle was heavy and sweet in the cool morning air. Spence and Courtney had both worn long sleeves, but all I had on was a T-shirt. That cool morning air was stirred by frequent breezes, and I soon began to think I was going to freeze.

We heard a few birds singing, but most of them were not interested in being seen. And I was freezing.

By the time we had crossed the bridge and walked up onto the railroad tracks, the sun was beginning to warm things up. We noticed an open gate across the tracks. A square sign on the bars said simply “29.” I thought it sounded ominous (like a some secret testing facility), but Spence and Courtney were ready to investigate. “We have to see what’s around that bend,” Spence said.

The gate was open — Gate 29.

So we took the road. It wound through open, upland habitat. Dozens of swifts and swallows swarmed over a small creek. Indigo Buntings were plentiful, and we heard several Yellow-breasted Chats but never got good looks at any of them. Great Egrets and Great Blue Herons flew overhead. I heard two Prairie Warblers, but we didn’t get to see much of them.

By late morning, the sky was rich blue, the air was balmy, and it was a perfect day to be outside in the sun. On the way back to the car, we had a wonderful look at a Prothonotary Warbler who sat out near the end of a branch, singing his chorus with gusto.

ydhttmwfi: The iron bridge road

LONGVIEW, TEXAS — Last night, Shroud told me that Molly’s eggs had hatched. He was very excited: “We’re grandparents!”

So this morning, I went off to photograph the young House Finches, but I stopped by the dining hall first for breakfast. I ended up eating with the director of campus security, who cuts quite a figure with his cowboy boots and thin but remarkably vertical hair. He asked me what I was going to photograph, and I told him (with a tinge of embarrassment) about the birds nesting in front of my friends’ apartment.

“What kind of birds?”

“House Finches,” I said. “They’re, uh, small…” I gestured with a thumb and forefinger.

“I’m a bird watcher.”

Thankfully, I didn’t drop my spoon. YOU are?

He went on, in his East Texas drawl, to tell me about his four feeders and eight male cardinals and the other visitors, including one he was especially proud of. “A deal called a Blue Grosbeak,” he said. He described the bird with what I guess I’d have to call enthusiasm, and it did indeed sound like a Blue Grosbeak.

Will wonders never cease?

The nestlings seem very young — two or three days at most, I’d guess.

RUSK CO., TEXAS — Yellow-rumped Warblers and Blue-gray Gnatcatchers were noisy and abundant in the New Hope Cemetery. Jason was watching them when Courtney and I arrived, and he said he hadn’t seen much else yet. We found a singing Blue Grosbeak and a few bluebirds and Chipping Sparrows. I had a quick glimpse of a Red-eyed Vireo. A bobwhite called intermittently in the distance.

We headed back down the entrance road on foot in search of the Prairie Warbler we had heard singing. Along the way, we also heard a Sedge Wren jittering. We ended up hearing three more throughout the day, but none gave us even so much as a glimpse. Happily, the Prairie Warbler was more cooperative. He sat up in a sapling, throwing back his head, opening wide his slender bill, and singing his rising, buzzy song. I love to hear the Prairie Warblers sing, and this bird’s black-streaked golden body was a welcome sight.

Jason is surveying the four miles between the New Hope and Millville cemeteries for Cornell’s ebird program. (Unfortunately, the program’s data viewing tools are virtually useless and all in JavaScript, so I cannot link to his reports.) We headed north on 782, following his usual route.

We stopped at the second swallow bridge and watched the small storm of Cliff Swallows swirl and flutter. Meanwhile, a phoebe and a handful of red-wings moved about, and three Cedar Waxwings (all lacking their bright waxy tips) perched in a small willow.

Along 254, we saw scissor-tails, doves, and Savannah Sparrows, and a Lark Sparrow flushed as we drove past, flashing white tail corners on the way. A beautiful young red-tail dropped down from a power pole into the field, where it sat for a while before flying up into a small tree.

All three vireos sang in close proximity at the bridge. A Summer Tanager flew overhead. Two Indigo Buntings flamed brightly in the bushes. A chat chuckled mysteriously in the distance, and three vultures — two blacks and a turkey — loitered atop a power pole. Carolina Wrens, cardinals, and a Summer Tanager sang continually.

A truck pulled up, and a man, Surveyor Jr., got out and questioned us rather rudely about our behavior and motivations. Surveyor Sr. sauntered around the truck and took over, more pleasantly but with similar levels of disbelief. He told us about an “Indian burial ground” and “really good wetland” in the area. Eventually, they went back to work. Two Red-headed Woodpeckers flew across the road.

Back on 782, we found nine Blue-winged Teal at the edge of the big pond. Jason found his kingbird, and a Pileated Woodpecker flew out onto one of the power poles and climbed it, giving us a very nice (if distant) view. A brief walk along the highway yielded a pair of thrashers, a few white-throats (yes, still here) and a Lincoln’s Sparrow that fled before Courtney could see. Much is made of the subtle distinctions between Lincoln’s and Song Sparrows. Seeing that bird reminded me that it’s really quite simple. If it’s a Lincoln’s, you just know.

We checked the pond again upon returning to my car and discovered a few Calidris sandpipers. They were distant, and I couldn’t make much out of them at all. Jason said they looked consistent with birds he had seen better a few days ago in the same spot, and he’d called those Baird’s. Well, OK. I called them Calidris. I’m not particularly afraid of sandpipers, but I do need to be able to see them.

We made our way to Millville, where we heard a Black-throated Green Warbler (less wheezy than this recording) and a Northern Parula. Jason got a quick glimpse of the black-throated green, but we never did see the parula, which was singing the “William Tell” alternate song (something, but not exactly, like this).

By that time, the day was heating up, and we all had things to do. We talked briefly about our upcoming trip to the Gulf and went about our ways.

Jason and Courtney watch a kingbird along 782.

ydhttmwfi: The learning continues…

EAST TEXAS — Classes ended at 3:30, and Spence, Courtney, and I assembled as quickly as we could. The last several days had been warm, clear, and beautiful, and this one was no exception. Papers, tests, and classes lose their stranglehold on our minds and spirits when the intoxicating April breeze blows.

Eastern Meadowlarks sang along Hut Horton Road, but Dickcissels were still absent, to my surprise. When we reached the church, Spence spotted a Blue Grosbeak perched high up in a pine, silent and still.

The cemetery was full of Red-winged Blackbirds. They clustered in the tops of the trees, creating quite a din. I found a Lark Sparrow high in a tree, but he was hard to see, and the blackbirds nearly drowned out his song. Eventually, the red-wings all flew down to forage among the grasses. A couple of meadowlarks joined them.

As we worked our way back to the gate, I heard a bobwhite’s call. It sounded very close and convincing, but I’d already been fooled more than once that afternoon by mockingbirds. We approached the location of the call, and I’d just about become convinced that it had been a mockingbird when a chunky brown bird popped up from the grass and flew stiffly to the edge of the woods. A moment later, a second quail followed. We couldn’t see them once they got into the trees, of course, but we did hear them scurrying through the fallen leaves.

A phoebe and a scissor-tail worked the fence, and Barn Swallows perched along the wires or flew overhead.

We stopped at the small cemetery on Quail Lane. Spence saw a strange-looking bird walking along the ground, but it disappeared into the vegetation before Courtney or I saw it. I heard another bobwhite and told Spence that’s probably what it had been. Only later did the possibility of roadrunner cross my mind, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it sooner. I questioned him further about the bird and referred him to Sibley, and we decided that’s what it had been. “Nifty,” said Spence. Well, yes, roadrunners are nifty.

At the Talley Bottom gate, we parked and got out to walk. We walked back to the pool and discovered a beaver swimming around in the dark water. Upon seeing us, it smacked its tail loudly and dove. It came back up before long, however, and continued about its routine. It swam around the pool, sometimes diving, sometimes hauling out on the bank to groom its long dark fur or to nibble vegetation.

While we stood transfixed by the huge rodent, a Barred Owl called somewhere in the swamp, and another answered it from a great distance. Black Vultures crashed and whistled through the trees, and a pair of Wood Ducks winged silently overhead. A chickadee gathered lichen from dead limbs, and a Summer Tanager called high in a tree.

We drove a slow, winding course home, stopping occasionally to look at Chipping Sparrows, bluebirds, martins, and a pair of shrikes. We got out of the car to watch the martins, which circled quite low over the road and our heads. We heard a dog bark and turned to see a rottweiler lumbering across a long front yard. We quickly got back into the car, but then the dog just fell over onto its side. No need to fear.

LETU’s dining hall was long closed by the time we returned to Longview, so we stopped for supper at Subway. Jason and I always stopped there on the way back from birding expeditions in earlier years. As we ate, I told Spence and Courtney stories about our birding trips from long ago. I treasure the memories from those years and cherish the time this spring with brand new birders. But I’m also sad to think of all that is gone and of how little time I have left here. In three weeks, I will leave LETU and East Texas, and I don’t know when — or if — I’ll return.

ydhttmwfi: Birds and a beaver