Sunday, March 26, 2006

Call me DAH---ense


My mother always taught me that the furniture had more than one dimension when it came to dusting. She needed to keep working at that dimensional stuff because there's a gap in my brain which often keeps me zeroed in on one idea without consideration of other possibilities. That may be why I thought----until just a few years ago----that those singers were rejoicing because they were "bringing in the sheep."


I had another of those DAH---ense realizations yesterday when I went to the bluebird talk at the Community Hall. I learned that just because you put a bluebird box in your yard--- especially if you nail it to a tree---you're not necessarily gonna have bluebirds lining up to move in. And, so for the past two or three years, I've just assumed that those birds with dark blue tops and white bottoms that moved in every summer and spent half their days dive-bombing the cats and me were some form of bluebird.

I just figured we didn't get the pretty kind here in the bog area, and that this must be a variation of the Mountain Bluebird, which is Idaho's state bird. Boy, was I wrong, and, boy, was I stupid! Those are tree swallows, and you're never gonna get Mountain bluebirds until you put your bluebird boxes on fence posts.

Bill kept telling me not to nail 'em to the trees in the yard because the bluebirds weren't gonna come. But, I wanted to watch them out my kitchen window, so I put them on the trees in the yard, and for two years thought I was watching our own special bluebirds. My bird boxes are going to move as soon as I can get a hammer and nail 'em to the fence posts.

Of course, I learned also that the wrens might come in and decide they need the house. After all, housing is limited in this area, and even the birds are noticing it. Nonetheless, I'm going to do what's right to attract bluebirds.

My first clue that something was afoul came last Sunday at Farragut State Park. Bill, Kiwi and I were walking across an open field at the park and saw another couple with a Border Collie. So, we walked their way. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the lady was someone I hadn't seen for about 20 years.

Barb Mace Edwards graduated a couple of years after I did. While we caught up on old times, her husband and Bill struck up a hot and tasty conversation about their native Louisiana cuisine. In the meantime, while talking to Barb, I looked over and saw, probably for the first time in my life, the true Mountain Bluebird, which is about as pretty as anything I've ever seen.

Yesterday's bluebird talk confirmed the whole ugliness of my dense brain when the lady showed a slide of a tree swallow. After learning how stupid I'd been all these years, I was happy to learn that bluebirds are a lot like me in some ways. They like agricultural fields and they're nostalgic. They like the old, weathered boxes much better than the spiffy new ones. I also learned that they lay eggs two or three times a year, and once hatched, it takes only three weeks for them to mature enough to leave the nest. Of course, I've never laid an egg, so I guess that's where the similarities end.

They put sticks in their nest. The momma does all the house work, of course, while Dad fetches the food. Later, Mom and Dad both spend all day feeding their kids. And, can those babies ever eat. We watched a video produced in North Carolina where a camera was attached to the top of a bluebird house. The production showed the whole cycle from laying eggs (which does look about as bad as labor) to the coaxing of the kids out of the nest. While in the nest, those mouths open so fast and so wide when Dad or Mom shows up with food.

I really enjoyed the talk about bluebirds yesterday, and I tried to enjoy the birding tour to Denton Slough. Seventeen people actually showed up, and about ten stayed longer than five minutes as the rain continued to pour. Earl Chapin set up his $1,000 spotting scope and pointed out several kinds of ducks. It was a good day for them. I can now add an American Wigeon and a common Merganser to my list, along with a lot of coots.

On my way home, I learned where the "common wusses" like to perch on cold, rainy days. They left the birding tour early and joined in on the free Hotdogs, cake and donuts at the Holiday Shores Resort anniversary celebration.

I guess they're a lot smarter than I am. Just because you go on a birding tour, you don't need to watch the birds. There are other possibilities.

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