Date: Tue, 26 Sep 2000 11:37:10 EDT Reply-To: Maryland Birds & Birding Sender: Maryland Birds & Birding From: Brian Monk Subject: I hate fork-tailed flycatchers! (LONGISH) Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed On Sunday, Sept 24 I woke at 5:15 A.M. and was out the door to chase that fork-tailed flycatcher in DE. Just over 3 hours later (and spending 30 minutes in painfully slow traffic composed of fans of people who drive ra ce cars at blinding speed - how ironic) I was there! And excited! A FTFC! T he last one was 3 YEARS ago, and I missed that one! An adult, in full pluma ge, no less! What a beautiful bird! I could hardly contain myself when I saw the knot of people outside of th eir cars, all looking in the same direction! I whooped out loud in the car, "They've found it! It's still here!!" And then I noticed the small group of people further down the road. And the couple walking back from even further down the road, who had apparently b een behind the bend. The life went out of me. Out of the car, waliking and observing, I finally reached the small gathering. "Has anyone seen the bird yet?" I asked. "No. Not yet" was t he reply. The story of the bird's discovery on Friday, and it's subsequent refinding on Saturday, kept me interested. It was cool, the bugs hadn't even begun to fly, and at least one Kingbird was milling around the area. My hopes were high. After all, I had missed this bird 3 years ago, and m y wife had agreed that I shouldn't miss this opportunity (She, as yet, stil l has no inkling of my true mania concerning flighted, feathered, winged things.) An hour rolled by, and good birds were spotted. A merlin, and another. A peregrine, and a female blue grosbeak. Warblers in the small copse of tr ees to the left of the fields. I didn't care. The number of birders was growing, and the landowner, in a greasy red t-shirt, came out to examine the throng. "Has the bird been seen yet?" he asked, bearded and unwashed. T he mix of hope and disgust from the crowd was almost palpable. "No" was sai d again. And again, as each car pulled up, full of hope, only to be dashed. Those lucky enough to have seen the bird yesterday drew my unconcious and undeserved resentment. "If you had only been here yesterday!" are the l ast words any birder wants to hear. I left at around noon, determined to see what else was in the area, grab some lunch, flesh out my Worcester list, and see if I could find this bir d on some other lonely country road, sitting on a wire and unrecognized by almost all as a true ornithological jewel in proverbial mud. But my jaun t was only a distraction, and I was equally unenthusiastic. The thought of getting back to the site continually crossed my mind. Songs and calls we re ignored, and birdy looking spots were passed by. I hit the highlights : The OC flats, the OC pond, behind the OC convention center, Isle of Wight. I was working my way back to the site. Surely the bird had been seen by no w! I would find it, on my own if I had to. After all, I've found other bird s, some almost as spectacular, why not this one? I drove back to the site, anticipation once again building in the pit of my stomach. "It's probably not there" a small voice at the back of my mind said to me, some sane part of me preparing myself for disappointment. "S hut up. I'm here, anyways. And Assateague is in the wrong direction." I sai d back. Once again I found the small road leading to the site, and craned my head and neck to see if there was anyone present. I made the sharp left turn and began my final approach, to find two white 4x4's remaining. Two birders. "Was it ever seen?" "No." spoken simultaneously. As if to define the futility felt by all of those who had been there that day. One birder left in his white 4x4, disgust apparent on his face and in his actions. The last birder and myself, we spoke for a while. He had been chasing th is bird for close to 8 years. He had missed the bird in Maryland, and had n ot gone for the one in Vermont. Not as bad as one individual, who had been chasing this bird for almost as long, and was driving through Vermont whe n the bird was first sighted there. He never knew until reading his e-mail several days later. "I hope you find it," the last birder said to me as he drove away in his white 4x4. "I hope I do too!" I laughed, though I had no hope left in me. I stayed for another hour and a half. I didn't see the fork-tailed flycatcher. Driving back to my home, I felt an odd mix of disappointment, elation, an d relaxation. "There will be other birds," I thought, "At least I tried, a nd I did get out today, and the day was beautiful!" What is to be expected when we chase fickle feathered flying creatures?Nothing but traces of there passing, and equally insane friends and acquaintances, if even that. Brian _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. Share information about yourself, create your own public profile at http://profiles.msn.com. ======================================================================== To leave the MDOsprey list, send e-mail to listserv@home.ease.lsoft.com with the following message in line 1: signoff mdosprey ======================================================================== ==========================================================================