Gail, It was a good day, no doubt, but I picked it 50 years ago. On the day I was born there was a blizzard so severe that my mother couldn't get to the hospital, so our family doctor came to the house for the delivery. Fifty years later, to the day, we had 27 inches of snow here. I guess that's what they mean by a 50-year storm. On my first day of birding there was a fallout. Fifty years later to the day there was another. Do I detect a pattern here? In 1949 there were just two neophytes attempting to learn how to identify birds, Dick Wright and me. We identified 44 species. On Friday I had the company of my son Michael, Paul Pisano and Ottavio Janni (aka "The Brown-headed Nuts"). We got 200 species. Talent helps. I wish I had gotten started as early as they did, but I'm glad it wasn't later than sixteen. Learning starts to get harder shortly after that age and goes downhill as far as the eye can see. In fact, so do the eyes (and ears and everything else). But it has certainly been fun. It would be funner if I could just catch up with that White-faced Ibis. Paul