Change Up

I am a creature of habit. Working with a teacher's schedule for many, many years may have something to do with my slavish adherence to routine. My mother also ran a tight ship so I am no stranger to a clock and its meaning.

This month, I am challenging myself to bird at my favorite park at different times of the day. Usually, I am tromping around on the trails right after lunch. My current plan is to check the action at the break of day. Migration season is just beginning and treasures await. Here are a few sights from the park. As usual, my photography may require a bit of squinting and imagination.

My early morning greeting came in the form of several white-tail salutes. They danced their way across the park and made it clear that they were not in the mood to make a new friend.

There was a controlled burn at the park last week. This tree took on a new look after the fire. Perhaps a critter or hobbit will enjoy the opened up shelter. (Pro tip: Leave the park when the controlled burn is in full bloom or your clothes and hair will take on a smoky fragrance that lingers.)

There was quite a ruckus from a pair of geese by the quarry pond. An interloper got a little too close to the nest of Mom and Pop Goose and the beaks started swinging. The interloper was run off and Mom settled back onto her nest with a wary eye toward the pond.

The flickers are back in full swing. They make their presence known to all with forceful yek-yek-yeks. They like to pick away at the burned areas on the ground, seeking tasty treats. Robins and juncos often join them. Soon, my little junco friends will be heading north to Canada. Time to fatten up for the trip.

I came up on this sweet little nest as I was stalking a melodic Song Sparrow. The nest's building materials were particularly intriguing. There was a snake's molted skin woven into the structure of the nest. You can see some of the skin hanging down from the front of the nest. A+ for ingenuity.

My first snake of the season. I thanked him for sharing one of his jackets with the nest builders.

No trip to the park is complete without the shrieking dee-ee, dee-ee from the Killdeer. They skitter around, looking for real estate suitable for nesting. They will be particularly excitable when the eggs come along.

The highlight of my week was this little fellow, singing his heart out. He is a Winter Wren, on his way from the southern states to Canada. I am glad he made a stop in my park and sat still long enough for me to take his picture. Godspeed, tiny one.

This photo was taken on the afternoon of the solar eclipse. We were not in the path of totality but I was determined to see something, despite getting rained on twice and knowing the clouds were going to have to part for at least a moment or two. I sat on the stoop of the barn in the park and had my safety glasses ready to go, just in case.

For the briefest of moments, I was able to see the eclipse. As is evident in the photo, I had a better view of the barn's gable than the eclipse but I felt a sense of success nevertheless.

My husband got the best photo of the eclipse from our driveway. Never mind what might have happened to his retina in the process.

It is good to break out of the schedule trap every so often. Wonders could await you.