High-Mountain Roadrunners and Fluffy Little Robbers

 

High-Mountain Roadrunners

Went on a fast birding trip with my good friend and mentor, George Steele, yesterday. We went from home to Tupper Lake to Saranac Lake to Lake Ontario, stopping along to way to look for winter finches, Canada Jays, and hopefully some Short-eared and Snowy Owls. We missed the owls, but everything else was downright rewarding.

Canada Jay

We began our mountain tour long before sunup. As we entered the Adirondacks we were treated to a full moon that rivaled daylight, setting ice fog aglow on the snowy peaks and striping shadows like ancient ink drawings across the silent marshes and bogs.

I love the mountains

As it set behind the nearby heights the sun began to tickle the tops of the peaks to the east. Within what seemed like only minutes it was daylight. Soon we were at Sabattis Circle Road where we failed to find the usually ubiquitous Canada Jays but were surprised instead by a flight of Pine Siskins, one of which nearly flew in my ear, and gritting flocks of both kinds of crossbills.

White-winged Crossbill

Pine Siskin

At Bloomingdale Bog we found the Canada Jays, or maybe I should say they found us. Long known as "camp robbers" they seemed downright fascinated by the peanuts we brought along, although they would not land on my hand to get them. They have to be the fluffiest, cutest, kind of jay on the continent.

Rough-legged Hawk

Then we were off to Peninsula Point on Lake Ontario. We encountered all sorts of birds there, most notably 27 (!!!!) Rough-legged Hawks. They were everywhere, even in groups of four or five squabbling over prey. We watched a Bald Eagle engage in aerial combat until it robbed one of its dinner. It must have been something fairly substantial, as the eagle sat on it for quite a while.

It was fun. The mountains are glorious wrapped in a thick mantle of snow, sometimes feet thick on individual branches, and the air is elixir of joy to breathe. I do love those mountains and the critters that live there.

Bloomingdale Bog Trail

Mad props to George for somewhere around fifteen hours of challenging driving into and across the mountains, then back down into the valley and home.

He and his wife Anita have a new book coming out next month that seems very appealing. It is a children's book about a blind girl who enjoys identifying birds by their songs. I encourage you to check it out. 

Fluffy little Camp Robber

It's Superb Owl Sunday Again

 And we have snow. Cold, white, fluffy stuff that is weird to shovel. It ain't heavy but it ain't my brother either.

Anyhow, whether you watch THE GAME or try to make like a bear and hibernate while eating snackies, enjoy your day. Don't shovel too much!

About that Birthday

 

Becky wanted nothing more expensive than a peaceful day in the car, listening to podcasts, resting, and escaping from the busy of normal life.

Otsego Lake

As is not unusual, I wanted to chase good birds, so we combined the two, with the added attraction of inviting our good friend Kris along.

The boss drove. He is a great birding driver, as he knows just how to put you on the bird you want to see. He did a great job of just that all day. Kris found me a Merlin, which I needed for my 2025 county list, plus we found Savannah Sparrows, also FOY for me.

Fish

We started out in Cooperstown, getting the American Coots, and assorted other wildfowl that congregate there to take advantage of the open water provided by the bubblers that protect the docks. Coots are uber cute! It was great fun to watch them striding, all big-footed and funny, over the ice, and to listen to their squeaky-toy peeps and chirps.

And more fish

We tried a number of other good spots over the course of the day, seeing everything from the Merlin to a number of daytime Short-eared Owls.

The boss suggested we drive up into the Van Hornesville fish hatchery. We had driven by hundreds of times over the years, and never entered. What a place! Pool after pool of Rainbow Trout of assorted sizes, throngs of the creatures, circling and swirling madly. There were hundreds of thousands of them. We were fortunate to encounter some of the staff there, who patiently answered our dozens of questions. I can't wait to visit again in the spring.

An old spring house at the hatchery

Which Kris noticed was occupied

I believe that a good time was had by all...It was a great way to spend someone else's birthday. lol. Thanks Becky, Ralph and Kris.

The massive spring that feeds the fish pools

If You See

This beautiful person today, baker in chief, collaborator on amazing meals, and probably the kindest and most generous person I know, please wish her a very Happy Birthday! 

LOVE YOU BECKY! Hope you have a wonderful day!

Flamingo Wars

 

It all started with the Allied Union. WWII was not long over and still much talked about among our elders. In our case the Union, consisting of my next younger brother Mike, my Uncle Larry, and myself, with occasional assistance from some rather more civilized cousins, sequestered important elements of Thanksgiving dinner at one end of Grandma L's round oak table (which lives in my dining room now). Then we threatened to keep them there. Gravy anyone? We never actually deprived anyone of holiday sustenance, but threats abounded...as did amazing food. Man could those aunties, my mama, and grandma cook up a feast.

Later some elements of the Allied Union cruised the streets around Grandma and Grandpa's house in my uncle's car, which was doing double duty as a Sherman tank or maybe a fighter plane. We were just enough years younger than he for the hero worship to run strong. He had a car and a sense of fun and we sure loved our time with him...still do as far as that goes. He is a great guy.

Brandy

Fast forward a few years to the Doggie Doo Dah Olympics. Matt was stationed in the Air Force on another continent on the other side of the world. We communicated with him via....gasp....actual mail...the kind with stamps and all.

Two Bears, another Olympic contender

As evidenced by tape holding the envelopes shut when they arrived at their destination, someone was opening and reading that mail. Although we have always blamed local individuals who had access to those snail mail missives, I wonder now if it was happening on the other end of the mail run. It wasn't exactly the U S of A over there or anything.

At any rate we decided that if someone wanted to read our letters we would give them something to ponder over. Thus the Olympics were born. A Doo Dah, btw, is what we jokingly called a milking machine cup liner, made of high-quality rubber, and designed perfectly for tossing and fetching. We all grew up around farming or worked on farms and had access to the worn out ones, which the dogs loved to play with. 

I had a rescue dog named Brandy that was literally on the table ready for the last needle when I talked my veterinarian boss into giving him to me instead. He would do ANYTHING you could make him understand just for attention and praise. Frisbee, digging where asked...he helped put in our waterline...climbing ladders to run around on the roof, leap tall buildings at a single bound. There was no stopping him. It's a shame things like Dock Dog, Frisbee competition, agility and the like did not exist then, because he was that dog.

Oh, the mail order drama and the tense rivalry between Brandy, his family, and that felonious French floozy, er, poodle, Fifi Lafayette. With all the tricks he knew it was easy to elaborate on the many adventures of the gymnastic, bombastic, fantastic pups. We used pages and pages of hand printed...in a teeny tiny font...and colorfully illustrated, lined paper. I wish I could remember all the stories of the doggy Olympic village, the cheating, the scandals, the ridiculousness of it all. Matt and I were always close, and I missed my little brother something awful. It was fun to make up the crazy stories, and to think about some far away stranger reading them in puzzlement. I think Matt may still have some of the silliness kicking around somewhere. At any rate, our letters soon began to arrive unopened. 

In more recent years there was Moose Quest, which I won...Ha Ha! , Gator Quest, which went to Alan and Amber, a short and so far unsuccessful Bobcat Quest, and now....

Extra points for this salvo by Becky
as I am gnome-o-phobic.

Flamingo Wars! Ta Dah! 

I always liked flamingos, and would like to actually see one for eBird, although I did see some in Florida in the 70s. Meanwhile, my house is littered with flamingos in the bathroom, flamingoes in the parlor, flamingos on the kitchen windowsill over the sink, and even a flamingo in the dining room. The girls have a small amount of discretionary income and are not afraid of Amazon or eBay. 

I, however, am becoming afraid of incoming mail. Turnabout is fair play I suppose, but still...

Flaming-Ingo Sky

Anyhow, our family appears to have a long history of silly, but by heckin' heck, we sure have fun.

Alz fair in love and war