[RESEND] Thanksgiving weekend - Dream Yr Update (part 1)
GREGORY.B.MILLER@bge.com
Thu, 3 Dec 1998 15:45:28 -0500
Howdy All!
What a terrific weekend in Florida! Here's the executive
summary:
#709 - Budgerigrar, feeders in Hernando Beach
#710 - White-winged Parakeet, Baptist Hospital in Kendall
#711 - Spot-breasted Oriole, Baptist Hospital in Kendall
#712 - Greater Flamingo, Snake Bight Trail in Everglades
Wednesday, 11/25
-----
I had an evening flight to Orlando arriving about 10:30pm to
the sounds Christmas music and the sight of a huge, well-lit
Christmas tree in the airport, and a hot, humid, 80-degree
evening. Aided by fatigue, having worked 35 hours in the last
three days, I decided to use my masculine skills of
disorientation by wandering around the wrong terminal looking for
my Avis rental car. At least I was very decisive. Part of my
wandering was overcompensation, inspired by rivers of clueless
humans who were stopped and gawking blankly at all the
construction and ill-posted signage. Ahhh. Holiday travel.
By 1:00am I was within a half an hour or so from the Gulf
coast of Florida and quite out of sorts, I must say. I wheeled
into the less-than-auspicious Budget Inn for the night.
Thursday, 11/26
-----
Since it was Thanksgiving, I slept late and luxuriated in a
full 8 hours of sleep. I awoke to the already blinding light of
yet another gorgeous day of Florida sunshine. The sleep felt
wonderful inspite of the Budget's simplistic surroundings. This
morning I was very thankful. Part of the reason I was doing a
big year this year is for the very fact that I am very grateful
to have good sight, decent hearing, and the means to still get
around without great difficulty. I lingered on these thoughts
this morning. This was very important to me. I was extremely
happy I had taken the plunge and walked through this window of
opportunity in my life. The birding experiences have been
pleasure-filled and priceless, the many new friends have been
enriching, and the general support from many birders everywhere
for my own personal aspirations this year has been overwhelming.
I admit my eyes moistened (OK--maybe a little sniffle and a tear,
too) as I enjoyed the thoughts of the past experiences of the
year...which wasn't over yet! I snapped back to the present.
I studied the map intently that Bev Hansen had so graciously
sent to me of Hernando Beach and the corresponding directions to
a feeder where the Budgies were reportedly coming on a regular
basis. I checked out and drove west toward Weeki-Wachee and
southwest from there toward Hernando Beach. It was nearly
11:00am and I was hungry, but the urge to see the Budgies took
precedence. I arrived at the feeders at 4490 Bermuda Dr by
11:30am. The mid day sun was already pelting down and the warm
tropical air felt good. Two House Sparrows were at the feeder.
I slowly drove down Flamingo to Haiti. Boat-tailed Grackles were
sounding ever-so-tropical, but no Budgies. I sighed out loud. I
was prepared to spend the rest of the daylight hours searching
for the birds. I began driving slowly in and out of each of the
side roads on my way back to the feeders. One more time, I
searched the neighborhood. A chattering noise in the trees
behind the house startled me. A small group of five birds that
resembled tiny, green Mourning Doves flew into the tree right
beside me and one immediately popped out and lit on the feeder.
Budgies! I was elated. I watched the birds until I felt a
little uncomfortable in front of someone's house on a holiday
with binoculars...
It had only taken 15 minutes--far less time than I had
expected. Hey! It's Thanksgiving and I'm hungry. I finally
found a place to eat that was open. So I had a quick
Thanksgiving lunch of a delectable hot-dog and a Hostess Apple
Pie from Circle-K. Yummy. I munched on my hot-dog as I merrily
cruised south on I-75, listening on the radio to an old Arlo
Guthrie folk classic, Alice's Restaurant. I laughed out loud at
the song. I stopped briefly in Naples for gas, a bag of
Pepperoni Combos, and a Diet Mountain Dew before my continuing my
trek across Florida's Alligator Alley. I wondered to myself if I
could make it to Kendall before dark.
I whizzed past multitudes of Anhingas and Double-crested
Cormorants along I-75. The skies were full of vultures, mostly
Turkey, but a few Black as well. An occasional Red-shouldered
Hawk (the very pale variety) or a Wood Stork catching a warm
afternoon thermal added an interesting twist. Spanish moss
dangled like decorations from the trees. I felt like I was in
another land.
The sun was just setting as I exited east onto 88th Street
in Kendall. I pulled into the Baptist Hospital with only 20
minutes of daylight remaining. As I opened the door of my car, I
immediately heard the loud squawks of some tropical exotic right
in the palms in the median of the entrance boulevard. They was
Canary-winged Parakeets. I held my excitement to a minimum. I
had already seen the Yellow-chevroned Parakeets at the Royal
Palms Tennis Courts earlier this year. As I watched intently,
the bird hopped out into the open. I had my eyes trained on a
White-winged Parakeet! Aha! Miller Luck returns! Another bird
flew into the tree, showing off it's gaudy white wing patches.
Outstanding! In the next tree were two Hill Mynas. Although not
countable, I enjoyed watching this species anyway. I birded
until it was too dark to see.
I drove west a couple miles to the Town & Country Mall and
stayed in the much nicer Wellesly Inn--a little more luxury than
normal. But I was in a most festive mood. I took myself out to
Bennigan's where I ate a REAL meal--yes, folks, a TRADITIONAL
turkey dinner. I hit the sack early and slept well.
Friday, 11/27
-----
By 7:45am, I was headed east again on 88th Street. My
destination was the Kendall Elementary School. My target? The
Spot-breasted Oriole. Unfortunately, I realized I had my
directions in the trunk. I conveniently pulled into the Baptist
Hospital and parked along the pretty boulevard. People were out
jogging/walking off their Thanksgiving meals on the trail around
the West Pond. While getting my directions I couldn't help
noticing some Yellow-chevroned Parakeets fly across the road, a
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher in a tree beside me, White Ibises on the
lawn, and Common Moorhens over by the East Pond. Boat-tailed
Grackles were flying noisily overhead. Directions in hand, I
opened my car door and froze for a moment. Three notes--I heard
three oriole-like whistled notes in a sing-songy rhythm coming
from somewhere behind me. I closed the door again and headed
over to the trees near the west side of the entrance. More
Blue-gray Gnatcatchers were in the tree, but no oriole.
I headed back to my car. I must have heard something else.
I opened my door and got in and reached over to close my door and
froze again. There it was again--the same notes again. I got out
again and this time headed over to the trees near the entrance on
the east side. I soon found a stunning male Black-throated Blue
Warbler--not what I was looking for, but most certainly a pleasant
surprise. More gnatcatchers and a Blue Jay.
No oriole. In the second tree I found a Northern Mockingbird.
Aha. I'll bet that's the culprit. I waited a couple more
minutes, watching the mockingbird closely, but heard no sounds
out of it. Not wanting to waste any more time, I headed back to
my car. Before I opened my door this time, I distinctly heard
the oriole-like notes again. This time, it sounded closer. Once
again I walked back across the boulevard toward the East Pond.
The sound was coming from a short, stubby tree. A Boat-tailed
Grackle was near the top. A Palm Warbler was bobbing at the base
and I heard a Sora call from the reeds. As I neared the tree, an
orange and black bird flew into it. It hopped out into the open,
but it was not what I was expecting. This was an immature bird.
I carefully noted it's features: dusky back, dark tail with
orange edging, dark wings with an orange shoulder and one white
wingbar, a pale whitish spot at the base of the lower mandible;
the bird's size seemed larger than a Baltimore Oriole; it's
larger bill and longer tail were reminiscent of a Bullock's
Oriole; a larger oriole would limit the possibilities, but I was
cautious. The bird was by itself and size can be deceptive. I
frantically mulled through immature oriole plumages. It
definitely was not one of the more yellowish immatures. The
crown, face, and throat were completely orange. I stopped my
thought processes as I saw the bird turn and face me. On it's
upper chest was large black central splotch, fading into smaller
spots lower down. I was certain now. Excitedly, I hurried back
to the car to check a field guide, hoping that I could find a
picture of a young Spot-breasted Oriole. I was in luck.
Thankfully, the National Geographic Guide displays an excellent
picture.
---end of part 1---
Greg Miller,
Lusby, MD