"I'm not a wizard," I reluctantly admit as I wake up from a dream of two Golden Eagles flying in a windstorm. Today was Sunday, and if Sunday means one thing, it's that you get up early and bird the ever-living dickens out of the Sierra Vista Sewage Ponds. There's time to toast a bagel, but if you want to top it appropriately, with two solid cloves of raw garlic, cream cheese, spinach, pepper jack cheese, and avocado, you're out of luck.
I pull up to the scene, the numbing cold complementing the dancing, ever-present notes of sewage. Ahh yes, the touch and smell of an idyllic day. There's a whole squadron of us there to go on the bird walk. Scopes, binoculars, and cameras gripped in anticipation. Here comes the spiel about what sewage plants do. Hmm, even more interesting this time. Schnicity-click-creeeeuuuu! The gate is open and we flood the path, proceeding in the stop-go fashion of birders.
Don't get me wrong, I love ducks, I'd even consider marrying them, but like every Sunday, I'm here to spot the Sora. A couple of us catch a fleeting glimpse of one across the pond, but there was no Sora for sore eyes, as they say.
Pictured: Last week's Sora
The troop continued. A Green-winged Teal was caught having the time of his life in raw sewage. I think we've all been there once or twice, but not in broad daylight like this fella. I'm going to go ahead and plug in more of the excitement of last week, where, at this point, we watched a Merlin take a Great-tailed Grackle out of mid-air and, well, here's a picture:
Onward we marched, through ducks, sparrows, and blackbirds. Morale high, but as high as a swallow? I don't know how you'd measure that. They're an unusual sight here in the winter. Nonetheless, at least three grace the sky, Tree Swallows. I immediately have to upgrade the Tree Swallow cuteness alert level to Code 1 (the highest code).
My first Scaled Quail of the year is soon to follow, looking pretty dapper.
We then work our way down the creek on opposite sides and end up nearly back where we started. "Well it was a valiant effort," Brad remarks. Practically interrupting him, a wren pops up alarming. It's the Pacific Wren! I can't speak for Brad, but I think we both almost pooped our pants. I managed some video of it calling and an ID'able picture. High fives and fist bumps were given out. Feeling some real birding team potential.
Pacific Wren
So, I could go home and celebrate, but, you don't really want to leave parts of the day unbirded. I headed down to see if I could spot the Sinaloa Wren again. Sure enough, I could! Met a cool couple who joined up with me and made an excellent photography team. We were ecstatic.
Finally, I picked up a kombucha and a chocolate bar, what better way to spend your night than making a Sinaloa Wren Collage?
