No Child Left Indoors: Why Johnny Can't Learn

I dedicate this blog entry to our dear friend Margaret, who recently introduced me to the concept of "Friluftsliv". Through the years, she has been both and inspiration and an encourager in our quest to live simply, and to give back whatever we can to the precious ecosystems in which we all live and to our communities anchored firmly within those ecosystems.

I copied this excerpt from the NeoVox website, and I acknowledge and thank the website and, specifically, the author Christian Peters, for furthering my knowledge of "Friluftsliv".

"In contrast to Americans and Germans, Scandinavians even have a word for their tradition of living with nature and in the outdoors. They call it "Friluftsliv." Coined by Henrik Ibsen, famous Norwegian writer, dramatist, and poet, the term "Friluftsliv" can not easily be translated into foreign languages. Translations like "Life beneath the stars," "Open Air life," "Life in (and with) nature," only approximate the holistic content of the term............
"Friluftsliv" is the lived experience in the outdoors, being out in free nature all day and night long. It concerns an aspiration towards a genuine meeting face-to-face: nature in its primacy, as it genuinely is! This quality of experience is unfettered by an aggressive human agenda of conquest or study of nature as "other", or nature as a cultural construction. "Friluftsliv" is a quality of practical knowledge through which guides and students come to understand and experience a particular spirit of connectedness." end of quote.

Twenty years ago, I began teaching a course at Drury University's Pre-College program. The course, entitled E.A.G.L.E., short for Environmental Awareness and Group Leadership Explorations, combined group dynamics with environmental awareness in an attempt to "bathe" its participants in the subtle beauty and wisdom of Nature. Through sensitivity training, Native American teachings, quotes and readings from the transcendentalists, a book called Many Winters by Nancy Woods, music by Douglas Wood, and, most powerfully, the woods, the rocks, the rivers, the hills, the caves, and all of those things found within Nature and ourselves, I wanted to permanently connect a generation of youth to the sustaining natural world around them. I hoped that this experience would lead to increased environmental activism and appreciation for the miracle of life around us. The experience was truly life changing and affirming for both the adolescents and me.

The challenge each year, however, was to recreate the experience in my classes during the regular school year in the public school system. I know now that it simply cannot happen within our current educational system as long as we cling to the idea that learning occurs when 30 students are surrounded by four walls and that academic success is defined as proficiency on a "one size fits all" test at the end of each school year.

I have reasonable success with all types of students in my Missouri Wildlife and Habitats summer school class. We are fortunate to have the Finley River within walking distance. Along the river my class has set up a Prothonotary Warbler trail, and on the hillside of our campus, we have a Bluebird trail.

Monitoring the nests and compiling graphs of mortality rates and fledging success allow my students to discover that math is something we find a great use for outside. In repeating the process year after year, we further the great wealth of scientific knowledge contributed by amateurs in the field of ornithology. Best of all, my students are empowered to become environmentally aware movers and shakers in our communities.

The language arts requirements are a breeze (pun intended) to accomplish in a natural setting. Nature journaling becomes an outlet of expression for some of my students, while scientific reports on qualitative invertebrate research in the river appeals to my left brained students.

Water pennies, amphipods, isopods, large and small mouth bass, and yellow suckers all indicate that our stream is still healthy, but threats of rapid population growth and development serve as a mandate to my students to become involved in the political process to preserve and restore this aquatic treasure.

Old railroad bridge trestles and the mill pond beckon from the past to appeal to my kids who are history buffs. Local historian, Bruce Pegram, has offered his historical photographs to community activist Victoria Johnson, who has created a webpage to access this river communities' past at my students' fingertips.

Arts, no problem....it's beautiful, serene, and inspiring here near the river in the middle of our town, just a short walk from our school. Yes, true education can occur entirely in an outdoor setting.

But, it probably will not surprise you that I had to fight to continue my class last summer because since No Child Left Behind legislation was enacted, the "cores" are all that matter to administrators and school boards. Enrichment is out these days.......

I could go on and on, but my point is this:

Everywhere, if we want our children to learn exactly what they need to learn, we must connect them to the natural world around them. We must create classroom environments that inspire our students to rekindle their natural curiosity and sense of wonder. We must instill within each student's heart the knowledge that through sharing of one's unique gifts, that one truly receives. It's only in this way that we can begin to establish a culture of peace within a sustainable natural learning environment.

So, let's get it right this time; Let No Child Be Left Inside!

The Old Bingham Farm

Yesterday I mentioned that our subdivision was built on the Bingham Farm. This land, according to old timers in the area, was once the best agricultural land in the area, even known for growing corn. To put that into perspective, you have to know the Ozarks. The Karst topography of our bioregion is dominated by chert and red clay from the surface downward. There simply is no top soil, but the old Bingham farm is an exception. I have actually dug into the ground in my back yard and not hit a rock. That fact shocks most natives. Actual topsoil is something we took for granted in my native Kansas, but the rocky Ozarks forced me to redefine gardening.
In spite of the fact that most of the area is now dominated by housing developments, there still is some decent sparrow habitat whereever development gives way to steep terrain or city limit signs. I can easily walk to my favorite of these areas 1/4 mile north of my house. Along the way, agriculture meets development, as a lone bull stands in a one acre field surrounded by lots destined for cookie cutter homes.


In the distance the Finley river bluffs rise and remind me that this is still an active riparian zone. An immature Bald Eagle soars overhead. Turkey vultures also catch the thermals on this breezy day.
I walk up one of the Finley's small tributaries to find my sparrow habitat. It is where the forest meets the pasture that the birds congregate, where buckbrush and greenbriar dominate. Brushpiles remain where the forest has been pushed back toward the creek. I am in search of the Harris's Sparrow, which I've seen here for the past 2-3 years. This time, however, he does not make an appearance. I'm hoping that it is the mild weather that has delayed his return and not the ever present destruction of habitat in the area.

Many other species made the day worthwhile. I tried my built in Screech Owl call. The first to appear was a Ruby-crowned Kinglet. Carolina Chickadees, Tufted Titmice, Carolina Wrens, Northern Cardinals, White-breasted Nuthatches, Downy Woodpecker, Red-bellied Woodpecker, White-throated Sparrow, and Dark-eyed Juncos, soon arrived to check out the threat. A striking Rufous-sided Towhee then peaked out of the brush. As the action was dying down, two Hermit Thrushes passed through and headed southward.

In the new development across the road, Goldfinches and House Finches clustered to feed on the seeds of annuals. As I turned toward home, a single Song Sparrow hopped up to the crown of a ragweed, a fitting testament to the evolution of this habitat. And so it goes.....From deciduous forest to rich agricultural land to fescue pasture to scarred chert and clay landscape to annual invaders to manicured lawn. It's the most commonly repeated story in this neck of the woods........ or shall I say in this neck of the lawns.

Changing Habits.....and Habitats

Ten years ago, we gave up a country home overlooking the Finley River. The place had outstanding habitat, and our yard list exceeded 100 bird species. However, the need to simplify, to reduce fuel consumption, and to make our life as parents of active children easier provided just the impetus we needed to leave our fixer upper and relocate in a subdivision just one mile from our workplace.

Coming from a 70's "back to the land" mindset, the transition to urban habitat was a shock. I witnessed firsthand the destruction of farm acreage and the accompanying exodus of species. Scissor-tailed Flycatchers, Eastern Bluebirds, Dickcissels, Horned Larks, Savannah Sparrows, Northern Bobwhite, and Eastern Meadowlarks dominated the area in our first year, but disappeared quickly as home construction turned the Bingham farm into a scarred landscape filled with houses in various stages of construction. Although the convenience of living near work and school justified our move, our thoughts turned to how we could environmentally adjust to this lifestyle.
It was not long after we planted native trees and plants in our yard that we began to see the new avian residents appear. First came the House Finches and Chipping Sparrows, following by an occasional Cardinal, then Chickadees, Titmice, and Downy Woodpeckers. The new yard list is coming along. I even had a January Eastern Phoebe a couple years ago.

Of course, the grassland birds of previous years were among the first on the yard list. An occasional Eagle and other raptors soared overhead, and a Cooper's Hawk scouted out our feeder. The urban habitat was great for Purple Martins, and their laughter and social gatherings have entertained us each summer since our move, as their numbers have correspondingly increased. A Great Horned Owl perched atop a two story home this past summer.

But enough rambling, I have decided that for the current irruption of Pine Siskins, I have prime habitat. The flock has increased to 20+ birds/day and they are truly a joy to watch. Their aggressive nature makes them easily approachable, and assures that less desireable species such as Starlings, House Sparrows, and House Finches are at least kept in check. In the past, I have had trouble here with thistle seed becoming stale and unappetizing to my other finches, but there is no way that's going to happen as long as the siskins are in town. They gobble up the stuff like there is no tomorrow, waiting in nearby branches as I refill the feeders, and alighting on them immediately upon my departure from them. I find myself staring at the spectacle each time I glance out into the yard to see them.

Yesterday I drove only one mile from my subdivison home to Garrison Spring, a beautiful spring and surrounding forest, preserved remarkably through times of rapid growth and development. Ernie and Mary Lou Braswell, the landowners, are strong conservationists, and always have multiple full feeders for the birds. I was sure that they would have tons of siskins at the feeders, and I wanted to remind them to sort through their Goldfinches to discover them. But, guess what?

They are among the siskinless in Missouri. Reading on the listserv Mo-Birds, I have found that many birders with feeding stations in traditionally great habitat have failed to attract Pine Siskins. At the same time, other "subdivision" feeders are attracting them in large numbers. So, for today, I am happy with my meager habitat, although I still long for the Red-breasted Nuthatches, Purple Finches, and Evening Grosbeaks that frequented my run-down, but beautiful, Linden home. (Nov. 11 edit: I stand corrected. Ok, maybe frequented is an exageration for my one time sighting of EVGR) I can only hope, that maybe this year, they will find their way to my town feeders in my gradually improving habitat.

Elusive Red-spotted Vorioles

It all started with a luring e-mail:

" Friday? We could go up the river on the raft......the fall colors are nice.....and, I believe there is nest of red spotted vorioles that might interest you (takes a couple of bottles of wine to see them)... Ted"

How could we resist? Great friends, beautiful scenery, potentially great wine, and what else? A chance at a life bird! No way I'd pass this up! We were headed for the river at 3:00 pm.
Not that the river wasn't calling, but we also cherish the thought of a great "under $20 bottle of wine". We visit tastings, peruse labels, take chances, all in search of the perfect bottle. We certainly wouldn't want to pay too much for a bottle of wine, not with all of the wonderful, inexpensive ones available these days. It's all part of the fun, to find a real treasure, cheap!

We share our quest with Ted and Cathie, who have converted their old storm shelter into an earthly wine cellar. Its rustic walls of native Ozark stone give it the ambience of Old World cellars, dust and mold adding the illusion of antiquity to the corked bottles and their surroundings.

To go with our dazzling fall foliage review, Ted selects a Spanish Red, and we toss in an Argentinian Malbec. We load the sturdy floating dock, sit back in our comfortable lawn chairs, and embark upon our autumnal adventure. The reds, yellows, burgundies, and oranges reflect vividly on the still water's mirrored surface.

We read aloud the label of our first bottle of the afternoon, the Spanish Red, a 2001 Abadia Returerta Sardon del Duero "Rivola" , and head upstream on the calm, Finley River mill pond at Lindenlure. At this point anticipation fills the air. The bottle is uncorked, camping cups filled, and the bouquet passes the test for excellence. Our first sips confirm it. This wine is a gem. (I bet Cathie and Ted wish they had bought a case!) Anyway, a toast to this day, and we are on our way, with much more stimuli awaiting to awaken our senses.

Soon we are basking in the warmth of a 60 degree day. There is no breeze to stifle the sun's radiant energy, as only an occasional shadowy stretch reminds us of the day's temperature. We head for a comfortable and secure spot along the high bluffs of the Finley. This is "Flat Rock", named after the large stone slab that, ages ago, separated from the overlooking bluff, cascading downward, only to rest on the river's bank. This place holds a lifetime of cherished memories for all of us, and we are again lulled away by a sense of Nature's grace present here.
Of course, all things must pass, and soon the first bottle is empty. But alas, another bottle uncorks. This time it is one of Martha's and my favorite recent discoveries, a 2005 Silvertop Malbec , (well under $10, and quite a bargain!) Sure enough, it is shortly after the last sip of Malbec that we hear a strange avian call note coming from the foliage. It is almost certainly a Voriole, as its call resonates against the bluff right on cue. We cling to hopes of photographing the bird, but it is not to be on this day. You see, the Red-spotted Vorioles are especially difficult to locate in the fall, when their crimson spots and yellowish orange plumage blend perfectly with the chlorophyll starved Sugar Maples and oaks of its preferred habitat. We do however, catch a fleeting glimpse of our bird, at the exact same time that we are viewing the white trailing edges on the wings of a large woodpecker gliding into the evening sun.
I take this moment to wax philosophic. Here and now we rediscover good friends, flaming trees, mythical birds, and fine wine............. all reflected in and flowing down this river we call life. I look over to Ted, who is leaning back, red-faced, and smiling. I smile back as I peruse the brim of his cap. "Life is good",it says. "Yes, indeed," I answer, as the last warm rays of sunlight give way to the cool twilight in the Finley River valley............

Pine Siskins!

The first representatives of a northern irruption species found their way to my feeders yesterday! High count today (10/31) was 5 Pine Siskins! Hope these are only the first of many more northern finches this winter!

Nothing Finer than Carolina

A month or two ago, my wife and I planned an extended weekend trip to see our son, The Drinking Bird, and his lovely wife. An end of first quarter getaway turned out to be just what the doctor ordered for us. Yes, teaching junior high students is fun, but requires seemingly endless stores of energy. So, this weekend was about respite and, nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina as the first blast of autumn weather put a dent in the drought and brought in a fine wave of fall migrants.

The welcomed Friday rains gave way to a breezy and overcast Saturday morning, so we set out for Jordan Lake near Chapel Hill to see what the precip dropped in. I was hoping for shorebirds as Ozark shorebirding has been dampened by too much rain and high lake levels. This, however, was certainly not the case in parched North Carolina, where dropping lake levels have caused more mud to be exposed than water in many of its lakes.

My anticipation and excitement grew as I got my FOY Dunlin at our first stop. Special thanks to Doug, Bruce, and others of the Chapel Hill Bird Club birders for that one.

Soon we parted ways with the bird clubbers, and we headed for the mud flats. After a 1/2 mile hike, on which we shared a rare and beautiful Gray Fox sighting, we arrived on the lake shore. A dozen American Golden Plovers greeted us from the first mudflat, as our first Bald Eagle soared over the distant point. We turned to our right just as large mixed flocks of waterfowl and shorebirds took to the skies a mile or so up the arm of the lake.

We couldn't resist the long walk to the next point, but were rewarded amply upon our arrival there. On the way, a small flock of Semipalmated Plovers fearlessly foraged nearby. (photo courtesy of The Drinking Bird) From the point we scoped the following duck species: Blue-winged Teal, Mallards, Northern Pintail, American Widgeon, Gadwall, Green-winged Teal, and Northern Shovelor. Shorebirds species included: Wilson's Snipe, Dunlin, Least Sandpipers, American Golden Plover, Black-bellied Plover, both Yellowlegs in the same view, Pectoral Sandpipers, and surely I few more that I've forgotten! Five Bald Eagles circled near the power lines crossing the lake arm. All in all, we had a great flurry of avian activity and a wonderful morning of birding. But then there was Sunday........

We headed for the beach at Wrightsvillle early Sunday for a leisurely picnic with birding as a secondary activity, or at least my son and I tried to make it seem like birding was not the primary objective. But the potential for North American lifers for me was strong on a NC beach, and this beach and my son delivered well. Within 5 minutes, I checked off Northern Gannet, a species that we both have seen in multitudes at Bass Island near Berwick, Scotland. Many flew at the edge of the scope's range, but later in the day, to my delight, an immature flew near the shoreline. Minutes after the first Gannets of the day, two Black Scoters (lifer #2) hugged the breaking waves as they glided 2-3 feet above them, passing by and under the pier. After lunch on the beach we headed for the marshy areas at the north end of the island. There we saw hundreds of birds in the distance and quickly began our trek to the far end of the island. There we saw hundreds of Royal Terns and Black Skimmers, mixed with American Oystercatchers, Great Egrets, Great Blue Herons, an Osprey, a Northern Harrier, and several shorebird species. Among the shorebirds was a couple Red Knots (lifer #3). But my favorite lifer of the day didn't come until we were heading back to the car. Almost totally blending into the white crystalline sand was a trio of shorebirds. One was the common Sanderling, but he was joined by two Piping Plovers, one mature and one immature. What a magnificent and graceful species! Certainly this was the highlight of my NC birding!

My mood, however, was slightly dampened by the fact that this species is in serious trouble largely due to irresponsible humans disrupting nesting grounds on beaches upstate from this very beach. When will we ever learn? And what can we do now to enact and enforce laws to protect this and our other threatened and endangered shorebirds of the Eastern Seaboard?

And so, I end this entry with a conservation question, and a great big thank you to my son and daughter-in-law for a memorable and productive weekend of North Carolina birds, beer, laughter, and relaxation! It just doesn't get any better!

Autumn Beckons Under Summer Temps

Giving up any immediate hope for seasonal temperatures , we ventured out this weekend, enjoying the cool mornings and then peeling off the layers to adjust to afternoons in the mid 80's. Nevertheless, organisms have detected decreasing photoperiods and have begun to move. On Saturday morning, we were treated to a large kettle of 250+ Turkey Vultures. Despite our attempts to find Black Vultures and raptors in the mix, we settled for the fact that this was a pretty amazing buzzard brigade.


On Sunday, we treated ourselves to a drive along Glade Top Trail. Native Smoke Trees with their brilliant reds and yellows brought the hillsides to life. Dogwoods were beginning to show color with touches of maroons. Sassafras trees lined the roads with their orangish-yellow hues. Peak colors, I suspect, are still a week away.




The glades of our region are nothing like the famous Everglades. Our "open spaces in the forest" provide a fascinating and purely southern Missouri ecosystem that results when southern slopes of the White River watershed become baked by their intense exposure to the sun and, therefore, become unable to support the trees of the surrounding oak-hickory deciduous forest. This creates a semi-arid community; home to pricky pear cacti, smoke trees, and other low growing grasses and xerophytes. As a result, there are numerous animal species found no where else in the state.


Although the Greater Roadrunners of the area either managed to stay off-road today or escaped my glances, another sluggish, reclusive species did make an appearance. The Missouri Tarantula is truly a classic Missouri glade endemic. This large, nocturnal, hairy arachnid illicits fear among many, but is a docile and benevolent creature. Although all spiders produce venom, the Missouri Tarantula is only capable of a bite equivalent to a small bee sting. But far more importantly, when handled gently, this species of spider chooses not to bite.

In my thirty years of science teaching in southern Missouri, I have taught countless students how to handle tarantulas and then freely allowed them to let the gentle giants crawl across their hands and wrists. I have never seen one move into its striking poise, let alone bite a human. The species does, however, engage in fearsome behavior when capturing a cricket or a grasshopper. Tarantulas must first raise their fangs in order to bite, so it is obvious when it is ready to strike. Its otherwise sluggish nature transforms to quick and agile with prey in sight.

Missouri Tarantulas are nocturnal and so secretive that they are rarely seen, except in late summer and autumn. Because of some strange shift in their circadian rhythm, they venture out of their secure hideaways, and diurnally roam through open glades, occasionally crossing roads. They are truly remarkable. You can learn more about them at MDC's spider website.

Ah, fall temperatures may arrive around here tomorrow. Couldn't come at a better time, as these Ozark hills are ready to burst into flaming color that will knock your socks off!

Green Leaf Reflections on Science Teachers

It's mid October, and the leaves are still very green. Faint signs of autumn are beginning to become visible, but as this morning's Springfield News-Leader reports, "maples often peak in mid-October, but that could be delayed this year because of unseasonably warm weather." Indeed, it is obvious now that the fall spectacle in the Ozarks is delayed, and we must grow accustomed to human accelerated climate change. We are now years into the current trend of warming global temperatures, and finally the world has begun to listen to the scientists. Hopefully, we are not too late to avert an ecological disaster.

This message is written, however, to thank all of those who, through the years have been willing to stand up in the face of ignorance and special interest groups to bravely educate the citizenry about the fact that our human actions are affecting Earth in extraordinarily negative ways. In spite of hateful and inflamatory remarks from those who continue to hide their heads in the sand, these brave scientists and educators have spoken the truth. They continue to do what scientists do; critically and objectively analyzing the data. And, the scientific results still supply mounting evidence supporting the hypothesis that our increasing appetite for and use of fossil fuels has significantly increased atmospheric carbon dioxide levels, leading to rising global temperatures.
And so, this day I say congratulations to you, Mr. Gore, and your team of scientists, whose work has finally been recognized globally with your acceptance of the Nobel Peace Prize.

Most of all, however, I want to thank all of those informed teachers, educators, mentors, and professors in the classrooms of the world. Thanks for objectively presenting the evidence of global warming with both eyes wide open, unblinded by the anti-science forces that seek domination and control of our thoughts and actions for the sake of greed and power.

It's going to take many serious and concerted efforts to kick our nation's and our world's fossil fuel addiction, but we owe it to the generations to come to meet this challenge head on. With an informed citizenry that values both objective scientific inquiry and diplomacy to resolve global challenges, we just might have a chance.


“In our every deliberation, we must consider the impact of our decisions on the next seven generations.” -From the Great Law of the Iroquois

Grassland Gems

Our first fall blast descended into Missouri this week, and avian friends that we haven’t seen since last spring returned to visit. Dark-eyed Juncos, White-throated Sparrows, White-crowned Sparrows, Lincoln's Sparrows, Song Sparrows, and others inhabited Lincoln's Sparrow by Marvin DeJong
the brushy edges of the Ozarks once again.
This day the winter residents and other migrants took second seat to two elusive migratory grassland sparrows, LeConte’s and Henslow’s. The Greater Ozarks Audubon Society’s annual quest took us to the hunter managed and dominated Bois D’Arc Conservation Area 20 miles northwest of Springfield.
I spend a lot of time birding by myself or with one other friend, but one’s odds of seeing these two species are greatly increased by the presence of a coordinated crowd of birders. Most of the birders attending today’s field trip were veterans of last year’s trip, when we had soul satisfying views of a LeConte’s and a Henslow’s, both in a single binocular view, begging for our careful observation and analysis of differences. The image lingered in our memories as we recalled our lucky day.
Because of their skulking nature and mouse-like running behavior (the sparrows, not the birders!), six observers is the minimum number needed to isolate and view LeConte’s and/or Henslow’s. The technique reminds me of childhood days of upland game hunting. We form a line and string out across the grasslands to cover more territory. These sparrows prefer the shorter areas of the prairie, those either burned or grazed to prevent the dense mesh created by the 6-8 feet tall bluestems, switch, and Indian grasses of the tall grass prairie. We flush our first LeConte’s of the day from the one to two foot high grasses. In flight it appears light gray and weak. It flies less than 50 feet. We surround the bird, closing in on it from all sides. We approach within 5 feet or less, the bird flushes and flies a shorter distance this time. We surround the bird again and again, until the bird has little additional energy to evade us. It is then that, as my birding friend Lisa said, “we can have our way with it”. The tiny, short tailed LeConte’s Sparrow perches on a stem less than 5 feet away from the entire group. Its orange face glows from amid the grasses. Purplish nape becomes visible to all. White medial stripe on top of head appears. Smiles all around for a mission accomplished.
Since I left my camera in the car, I ran ½ mile back to the car to get it. Shortly after I returned, the group closed in on another LeConte’s. Not as cooperative as the first bird, this one dove for the dense vegetation. Regardless, I snapped off a few pictures, one of which is on the left. The LeConte's is in the center of the picture, just to the left of the beige stem.
Later, the group split up as Charley and I bushwhacked through the dense thickets. Emerging from the thick vegetation, we flushed a dark bird out of the grasses. This bird flew less than 10 feet. We closed in without the help of our group this time. The bird flushed again as we noted its streakiness in addition to its dark back as it dove into the grasses. Even knowing exactly where the bird went down, however, we were unable to kick it out of the grasses this time. Almost certainly, however, we had a Henslow’s Sparrow.
Exploration of additional areas uncovered numerous White throated, White Crowned and Lincoln’s Sparrow, a few Field Sparrows, a Common Yellowthroat, a Ruby-crowned Kinglet, a Nashville Warbler, and all the regulars. A Cooper’s Hawk soared overhead against the autumn sky to put the crown on a satisfying birding morning.

2007 Lifers, Ay? Bay...., and Clay Day

North American life birds are few and far between these days. So when a day comes that one makes its appearance in the bins, it is indeed a good day, one to celebrate. Today's lifer brings back memories of #369, two Bay-breasted Warblers in the Mark Twain National Forest last spring. And those Bays bring to mind a spring whose warbler numbers I may never see again. I hope I'm wrong about that.

But, today, the Bay has turned to Clay, as in Clay-colored Sparrow, and that is what I am celebrating. I know how this species can be confused with the Chipping Sparrow, but I have gone over my field notes, run through field guides, looked at internet photos, and called my bird savvy son. He says that they are seen in mixed flocks with Chipping Sparrows (as Sibley guide mentions), and that the field marks and observations that I describe are consistent with the species.

I met this bird as it flushed with a flock of Chippies. It fed alone on asphalt near a maintenance building at Fellows Lake, 25-30 feet from the small flock of Chipping Sparrows. It's head was rounder and larger than a Chipping Sparrow giving it an overall larger appearance. It had a very buffy supercilium, clean facial markings, clear white patches around its moustache, a buffy overall appearance, and an indistinct rump that contrasted with the highly visible gray rumps of the nearby Chippies. I can't remember a gray nape, but the clean, contrasting marks on the head were strikingly different from the more ratty appearing Chipping Sparrows. This caught my attention. The bird was feeding on the ground which could have partially hidden its nape.


At any rate, the Clay-colored Sparrow had entered my life list at number 370.

So, hip, hip, hooray for bays, and clays, and days like these!

Red-tailed Hawk poses for me at Fellows Lake