With A Watchful Eye

A parent Barn Swallows feeding young at Woodland Dunes in Two Rivers

Moments are all we ever will have.  I tried memorizing the Wisconsin landscape one last time. 

As the young were getting ready to leave their parents, so was I.  Once again the summer flew by much too quickly.

My brother's beautiful oasis.

Wisconsin was the end of my 2018-19 birding season. It will be some time before I go back again. 

I realized that everything is different now.  I cannot help but see the past everywhere I go.  Faces that were once a fixture of a place are now gone.  It's like the town grew old without me. 

For the first time in my life, I actually felt like my family had dodged a bullet.  My Dad was going to be okay this time, but I got a glimpse of the future and I didn't like what I saw. 

Green Heron in Manitowoc

I don't feel any different here in Arizona.  When I observe birds in Wisconsin though, I feel some strange past connection.  The birding has a weight to it.  In Arizona, it's a fun daily game.  But when I see a bird in my hometown, it's like hearing an old 80's song from high school. It floods my brain with memories and people.

Common Yellowthroat

Sometimes I'd walk down causeways.  I like lighthouses.  And I like gulls and cold lake air.  I memorize the smells and feelings that belong to that moment. I am in command of that moment. There will never be another moment like it.  I see my future and I am at peace with it. But living in the moment can be difficult for me because I know the "now" can never last forever.  In that moment, everything is as it should be, safe. It won't be that way again. 

A lighthouse in Kewaunee

The mascot of this blog is the Bonaparte's Gull.  It is a gull that I love most. It's also why it's the header to Las Aventuras. I wish I could trap this moment and return to it again and again and again. It brings me joy. 

A Bonaparte's Gull

Whether it was a birding thing or family outing, I tried to absorb every detail. Normally, I "disappear" from my family when I'm not home visiting. I'm in Arizona and if it weren't for texts, I'd be missing in action for months.  I hate talking on the phone and am not one for writing letters anymore.  We all live our busy lives.  When I'm home, I catch up on all the daily happenings between the family members.  

In the Upper Pennisula of Michigan with my Dad and Jax

I see patterns and cycles. Change does not happen easily there. Perhaps we are all stubborn and set in our ways.  I wonder if we all truly appreciate that we are together.  One event flows into the other without really giving everyone a chance to think about the experience.  Or appreciating that moment. It's always planning for the next. Maybe it's because my siblings have children and that's what children do, talk about the "next thing" that they're going to do instead of taking in the moment.  I tried working with 4 of the nephews and nieces on that one.  We were at a movie and my niece asked me what we were going to do the next day.  I told them to just watch the movie:)

Henslow's Sparrow at High Cliff State Park

One morning I won't forget anytime soon will be the one where I went with Travis to find the Henslow's Sparrow in a prairie 40 minutes away from home. It would complete my sparrow chase for the state and the list of new sparrows I had hoped to observe in the field for this summer. What a wonderful morning out as we watched this amazing lifer sing on top of the bushes surrounded by a sea of grass.

My Dad and I usually do a trek out to Washington Island from Door County.  We took J-man with us.  I'll say he was pretty good for most of the time, but not having had children myself, he certainly knew how to get me to snap.  There was one night I blew a gasket with him.  He wanted up and down and up and down and up and down a chair while I was trying to get a project done.  I don't know where that darkness came from but it emerged quickly and took only a moment to put this 3, turning 4 year old, in his place.  I can't believe I actually yelled at him. I love that kid. I actually went to bed upset that I snapped at him. 

In Door County

There are so many voices in a family.  Quiet time is a must.  If I don't have that space, I unravel into a nightmare of a human.  I know myself well enough to make that an important thing.  My father tries to do the same, but he often can't escape the noise.  We both have that in common.  Peace and quiet are sacred things and I wish we all respected those a little more with each other because it is important.

One day, I watched Trumpeter Swans at Horicon alone. I only had a few hours to play.  If this had been in Arizona, I'd have spent the whole day there counting birds. 

My brother created his peaceful retreat.  He put his pontoon into the river by his home.  This land used to be my Grandmother's before she passed. I'm glad he has it now.  It's so beautiful there. While home, we took the pontoon up and down the river. I'm proud of my brother for taking something precious and making it better. That river is incredible.  

My little sister pulls the pontoon to the dock in her fancy shoes

But at the end, I was ready to go home.  It had been a great summer, but I had work waiting for me back in Tucson. It will be another several years before I head back to Wisconsin.  My birding year for next year is already planned.  I'll be in Oregon and Washington this October and Hawaii in December.  Then there are potential treks to New Zealand, Florida, Thailand and Central America.  One of them will have to be cut from the schedule, but for now I'm leaving it all open. 

This little guy will be bigger the next time I see him. I hope he stays curious and continues his love for the outdoors. Over the next several weeks, we head back to Arizona for a scouting mission, a birding festival and trek to Greer in the White Mountains.  

Until next time friends......

What Was And What Is

It is a strange thing transitioning from one birding experience to the other because each birding moment has a different feel. At home in Arizona, I often guide and spend much of my time with the birds, but when family is involved, it's a delicate balance between family time and the birds. For this trek home, it was more about spending time with the family. But I did sneak in some time each day to get some birding done.  In this next series of blog posts, you'll see how it all "fused" together.

American White Pelican

I missed home. And I wanted to be there to help out with my Mom and Dad.  Sometimes my mother says everything is fine when it's not.  I get it.  She doesn't want us to worry.  For the first time in my life, I was actually worried about my parents. No one wants to see their parents get older.  My mission was to break up the routine and give my Mom a break when I could.  

My hometown remains the same, but there's much more diversity now.  Each day I took some time to bird alone or with family. On those outings, I noticed a different community from the one I knew for decades. 

The wonderful birding hotspot that is the Manitowoc Impoundment

Like always, I pondered what it would be like to live in Two Rivers as an adult. There's a part of me that can see myself in a home on the lake surrounded by forest smoking a pipe researching birds in my study. The other part of me freaks out at that notion. I don't want to get comfortable and complacent. In Maine, I wasn't connected to any one place so I could just explore and have fun. But in Wisconsin, I remember what was and what is now.  At a very young age, I remember telling my friend that I would never live in our little town when I grew up. We aspired to build a plane and fly it to places unknown.  When our plane didn't fly, I was bummed out.  So instead we built tree houses in the surrounding woods. I had wanderlust at a very young age. 

Marsh Wren

I have been watching, for some time, the aging of the "factory generation" from my hometown. Most of the factories are gone now. The people who worked there were hard workers that followed a formula. It was a hard life. There were also a lot of others who owned a lot of the popular establishments around town that supported that factory population. Until the factories moved elsewhere. They are my parent's generation.  The ones who believe in a nice and tidy green lawn, a husband who should be served his food by his wife, and in general that there is an order to all things that should be followed.  But their memory is vanishing as many are aging and passing away.  These old ideas cannot sustain themselves for the next generations. These historical supper clubs and local stores have been shutting down now for several years as the people either die or are unable to keep them open. I see achievements left behind.  I remember the old arguments of the people who are no longer with us.  And the ones who still are. 

A dedication to the founding father of Woodland Dunes, Bernie Brouchard, 

Bernie has been gone now for a couple years, but Woodland Dunes is painting the barn where he did much of his bird banding over the years.  Some remember Bernie.  Most will never know who he was.  The same goes for Winnie.  There's a bench on the boardwalk with her name. Every time I pass that spot, I think, 
"Oh Winnie. What would you say about the world today?" I've worked with them both over the years and am glad they are remembered. I always wondered who would fill their shoes. I'm proud to say that there are many new faces who are educating the public about Woodland Dunes and Point Beach State Forest. 

Common Yellowthroat

For the first time in years, I see a cultural shift in my old community.  People from all backgrounds are moving into old homes that no longer have the strong family names that once lived in them. They will never know. Nor do they care. People from out-of-state have discovered the Lakeshore area and how beautiful the area is. This is exciting. So I see change happening and it gives me hope. I'm a whole mixed bag of emotions though. I hated the old generational attitudes towards "norms" like a woman being a servant to her husband. Or having to do something because that is what is "expected of you".  Or if you were different, you didn't belong.  And yet, I still miss some of those faces. 

As the factory generation fades into memory, a newer one is taking place.  I spoke with Doc Sontag this last time.  He is in his 80's and going strong.  Another friend met up with us, also in this 80's, at the Manitowoc Impoundment (which is a great place to bird!). There in our little bubble we pondered what will happen after their generation was gone.  And in fine Doc fashion, he looks over and points to me, "Chris and his generation are the next in line to take over for us old coots." Me?  No. I could never replace that man.  He is wise beyond years and full of experience. But he's right. We must carry the torch and teach the next generation.  There is a comfort knowing that Doc is out there every day counting birds in the same place. Who will take his place when he's gone?  

Double-crested Cormorant

During my stay, I did as much as I could.  I slept in. I tried to memorize everything the best I could.  I followed my parent's routine.  For the first time in my life, I worried about them both.  They always took care of me when I was a kid.  Now it's me and my siblings turn.  Often we take each other for granted until we realize that we shouldn't. I'm glad they caught my Dad's heart blockage before it was too late. That scare has changed "the tone" in our family.  

Common Grackle

I see my nephews and nieces.  Some are older and some are very young. I love them all for all their energy.  I think for a moment that we'd be great parents if we had kids. But I am also glad we didn't have kids. It was the best decision I've ever made. That doesn't mean I don't like kids.  I'm a teacher and I believe in our future generations. They make me laugh, but as I get older, I find my patience wearing thin:)  While I was home, I had fun taking the kids out.  There were times I wanted to pull the remaining hair out of my head, but by the end of the day, they went home to their parents:)

I love this little guy. We often spent time out in the field looking at birds. He shows a good interest in the birds. 

There was often so much "noise" happening around me with 20+ people in our family that I had to find a private place for quiet time. These were my birding times. I'd only get so many hours each day to explore and do my bird counts which was fine. I remember on my last day there that I skipped out on some of the family things and just enjoyed the silence.  It's sacred. People who are used to noise all the time often have a difficult time with it.  Not me.  It's a beautiful thing.  

Ring-billed Gull

My family all laughed at my idea of "helping".  For my siblings, their definition of "help" was taking my turn to cut the grass for our parents.  No my dear brothers, that was your deal. Plus it gave us some time to chat without the kids or spouses around. And where were my sisters in the cutting-of-the-grass deal?  I think it was rather sexist that they were left out:)  My "help" was trying to get my parents to understand that they are retired and that they must compromise to enjoy this last chapter of their lives while they still can.  They both have ideas and dreams about what they want to do.  I want them to live their fullest lives together. They owe each other everything.  It's ok for them to be selfish now.  They've done their work as parents and don't owe us anything. Arizona is the land of retirement and I tried to explain to them what retirement can look like if they so chose that life. And it's okay to say no.  We, the siblings, should not put any burdens on their lives now.  It's their time to fly. 

The fact of the matter is that it's all complicated.  Family is that way.  The most I could do is take away some of the stresses that my parents had every day by running errands, watching the niece and/or nephew, and allowing everyone to multi-task instead of being stuck in one place. My point here is that we all hopefully contribute to our families in different ways. 

Barn Swallow

We had a great time in Wisconsin and I am so thankful that I could spend time with everyone. 

American Goldfinch

Over the next several weeks, we'll explore the careful planning between family and Wisconsin birds on this blog.  

It was good to be back home. Until next time.....

Stay On The Path

Common Loon on nest

 A place that I had always wanted to visit was Monhegan Island off the coast of Maine. I wanted to give Kathie and Gus some alone time (and a break!) from us birding every day.  Thankfully Magill was around doing some work in Maine.  She had told me over the years that Monhegan Island was a fantastic place to go birding for rarity chasers.  If any rarity was going to show up in this state, it would be on Monhegan Island.  And it's all true.

She didn't have to twist my arm too hard to go.  There were some potential lifer sea birds on this trip.  Unfortunately, we were a little too early for the "main" sea bird event, but it was great doing some exploring in new habitat with Magill.  We always choose new places to bird because they are not birded or are underbirded. So on our way to Monhegan, we did a two night cabin stay along the coast checking area blocks for the Maine Bird Breeding Atlas. 

The trek out to Monhegan Island was beautiful.  There was lots to see.  Our mission?  To find a rare invading Eurasian Collared Dove. We rolled our eyes and laughed, but for Magill and myself, it would be a new state bird.  These doves come to my feeder in Arizona.  In fact, they live around Magill's house in Phoenix. But here we were chasing this silly dove on an island. 

I have this dove memorized.  I know its flight pattern and body shape from quite a distance. Because of that distinct flight pattern glide, I found it right away and of course, it flew down behind a house behind a bunch of trees. Magill didn't see it.  So because it was a rare bird for Maine, we wanted to get photo documentation.  But before I took another step, Magill warned about the people on the island.  According to many Mainiacs, they are assholes. Or at least, most of them were.  So we had to stay on the path. Easy. We're always so good about following the rules.  Or so we thought. 

a bird that is looking to take Maine hostage, the "rare" invasive Eurasian Collared Dove

 For the first time in my life, I used playback for this dove and it worked like a charm.  We, I thought, were safely on a public road until a crabby Lobsterman (are there any other kinds?) came out and tried getting into a verbal fight with us.  We ignored him and walked away.  It seemed like he followed us a little bit from his house, but we just kept walking on the road with him shouting at our backs. 

This sign is a complete lie.  And note it says during bird migrations.  So they really don't want anyone there

After that experience, I was done with the island.  The sign above is a complete lie.  Why would I invest money into this island if many of the people there were jerks? I felt bad because Magill loves this island and I think she was disappointed that I didn't think much of it.  I just thought to myself that if people were that hostile towards visitors, why in the world would anyone want to spend money at this place.  It was a pretty island, but so is Machias Seal Island and the hundred other islands along the coast of Maine. And you don't get hassled at those locations. 

Tree Swallow

 However, we did encounter some nice people watering their yards.  They had bird houses out for Tree Swallows.  We counted birds along the path. And let me add something positive here.  There weren't any bugs:)

And it was scenic.  Sure.  Absolutely beautiful.  I laughed because when Magill and I are together, we always have an adventure.  But something was very different this time around!  And it bothered me a lot. 

I can't put my finger on it but the Common Yellowthroats on the eastern side of the US are different acting and even looking than our yellowthroats we have here in AZ. 

 Magill was doing a great job about marking down breeding codes for the island and I didn't care!  I am going to admit this in writing.  I wasn't into the birding. Maybe it was the experience with that guy, or maybe it was because I had seen the birds a million times and just wanted to hang out by the ocean with a cup of coffee. I had fun with Magill, but it wasn't Arizona nor was it Wisconsin.  I had no personal connection to the common birds found in Maine. And it was a weird thing to feel.  

When we got back onto the mainland, I focused on bird song and recorded vocalizations of Blackburnian Warblers. We also explored a new spot, Islesboro, which was a lot of fun because it was another island of mystery birds.  I understand why people love Maine. It's a beautiful state.  I began to wonder though.  Was my former Cheesehead friend favoring her Maine grounds over her Arizona ones?  I felt like she had become a Mainiac!  I hated the thought of losing Magill to Maine. We have so many more Arizona adventures ahead! But there is something about Maine that gets into a person's psyche.  I get it. But it's more of a love affair for me and not a steady relationship:)

Common Eiders at the port of Monhegan Island

 One of the most memorable experiences we had together didn't happen on the islands, but at a blueberry barren.  There, we heard the fluttering heart drum calls of the Ruffed Grouse!  It was amazing. 

Eastern Towhee

 And there were sparrows! 

Savannah Sparrow

But back to Monhegan.  As we headed back to port to the mainland, we had more sightings of Atlantic Puffins.  I never get sick of observing these birds. 

Atlantic Puffin

 I let this post sit for a little over a month before I wrote it because I had to separate my feelings on this experience.  I wouldn't say Monhegan Island was a negative experience nor a positive one.  Just more of a disappointment. I also had to resolve my feelings about why my attitude was so negative about the bird counts on that day.  It really bothered me. 

We watched this local garden while listening to a territorial Virginia's Rail

 When I eventually arrived in Wisconsin, I had figured out why I had been so frustrated on Monhegan Island. I wanted to be home with my family and doing work for the final year of the Wisconsin Bird Breeding Atlas.  And I felt like I was wasting my time in Maine when I could have been "working" and using my experience for the atlas in my hometown.  It's often underbirded there and I know things about my hometown that others do not. Bernie had passed on his "warbler insights" with me before he died(I'll discuss this in a later post). As a kid, I played in every little nook and cranny possible. And here I was in Maine getting yelled at by a loser while chasing a "rare" dove that I have seen a million times.  So I apologize to Magill for my less-than-stellar attitude during those days.  I was worried about my Dad and wanted to be home helping out on both fronts. 

That's not to say we didn't have fun because we did:) I was just birding with a heavy heart.  So I will say this, birding is therapeutic:) I'll never say never, but it's unlikely I'll go to Monhegan again. Even if you "stay on the path", you'll get yelled at.  If you live in Maine and this is one of the few places a birder can find rarities, I suggest moving to Arizona;)  Until next time....