Often, I find myself alone on many of my birding treks these days. By all standards, I am a rogue agent. Once and awhile I join teams, but it is often I slip off into the night sky like a nighthawk.
|The sleepy Elf Owl|
|A Cactus Wren guards the nest|
|The Rose-breasted Grosbeak is a super rare bird for Southern Arizona|
|The Lesser Nighthawks inundate our skies at twilight|
|Cliff Swallows feeding|
And then a miracle happened. A bird with a looooooong tail flew past me. Not a swallow nor a nighthawk!!!! No way. IMPOSSIBLE! No one was around to share this epic moment. I couldn't do anything other than quietly follow the bird and watch as it perched briefly for me to snap a few photos with my shaky hands. There it sat and there it watched me. Me, the Rogue Agent. Or was it the other way around? I'd need to prove to them, the guardians of data and rare sightings, that the near impossible had happened. No one was going to believe this. I was Big Bird with his imaginary friend Mr. Snuffleupagus.
So as I keep my eyes open for rarities during migration, I begin to plan for June. My eyes look to the North now because that is what the Rogue Agent does. I am constantly on the move like the Scissor-tailed Flycatcher. I belong to no one because I am a world birder. Not of the US. Not of Arizona. I am a detective. This world has a few secrets left and I hope to unravel some of them. And even if I don't, I will die trying. More to come.....
|When the world comes crashing down upon us, all we have to do is step outside the door and look up....or down......to find Mother Nature's beauty.|