Doves

I spend my days off from work in my city home, off the island. Since the weather has been so nice, we sleep with the windows open. And so early in the morning the sounds of the birds (and the neighbor's fighting dogs) greet me. European starlings are always among those voices, sometimes American robins, and much more often lately has been the call of the dove - unfortunately it has been the call of the Eurasian Collared-Dove.

Not too many years ago, the only dove I'd hear in this neighborhood was the Mourning Dove.

Mourning Dove by Jim Huddle

 I love that sound. And I miss it. I haven't heard it in far too long.

Rather, the sound I hear now is the collared-dove.

Eurasian Collared-dove by Milt Moody

 While in and of itself, it isn't a bad sound, nor is it a bad looking bird, the fact that these birds have all but displaced the mourning doves virtually everywhere makes me annoyed when I hear their call.

The first sighting of a collared-dove in Utah was in May of 2000 and by March 2007 it was reported in every county. I remember a couple of years ago I was on a birding field trip and the leaders told us to watch for the collared-dove, as it was still quite rare and a treat to find. We didn't see any that day. However several months later I heard a new and unfamiliar coo-ing sound. At first I thought it was a mourning dove, but the pattern of the coo-ing was all wrong. So I looked it up. And sure enough it was the collared-dove. I was quite excited to have found one, as it was still not too common.

However, it wasn't long before that was the only dove I was hearing and seeing. The mourning doves had been displaced.

From birdsource.org: 

The story of the Eurasian Collared-Dove is captivating. A century ago, this species was found primarily on the Indian subcontinent, although its range extended slightly in Europe, in Turkey. In the early 1900s, however, the species began expanding its range significantly and by 1950 had reached the British Isles. Today, collared-doves are living above the Arctic Circle in Scandinavia.

Eurasian Collared-Doves were introduced into the Bahamas in the 1970s, and their populations soon expanded around these islands. What happened next was unclear. At some point in the 1980s, Eurasian Collared-Doves migrated, without assistance, from the Bahamas to Florida. And because they look much like the Ringed Turtle-Dove, the collared-doves started to spread unnoticed. It wasn't until the mid-1980s that ornithologists realized the suddenly prolific and quickly spreading "turtle-doves" they were watching were actually Eurasian Collared-Doves.

 So if you have doves in your neck of the woods, give them a good listen to see who's out there. If you still have the mourning dove, treasure that sound. It may soon disappear.

What I Know

I got on my bike this evening after work. It was the first time in several weeks due to my little lungs suffering through a bit of pneumonia.

As I drove home part of me wanted to bike, but most of me just wanted to crash in the living room and watch a movie. But something moved me along once I got home, and the next thing I knew I was slowly making my way along the dirt road from my house to the asphalt. This post was initially going to be me lamenting over the slow pace at which I had to ride over said dirt road, and the advantage the no-seeums took of that. And while I will be incorporating a head net into my bike accessories, the focus of this post changed while I was biking.

I realized I was no longer tired, but rather quite full of life and energy...and peace.

There are so many things in life over which we have zero or little control. The future and what that holds is one of those things. The future has been on my mind quite a bit lately. The future, and trying to figure out what it will look like, and what I need to do to get there, and how it will all work out. I have no doubt we all do that from time to time. But despite all our efforts and planning and scheming, the future is never quite what we expect.

I thought about this as I biked along the road, watching the incredible sunset that is so much a part of Great Salt Lake. And it occurred to me - I really have no idea what the future holds for me. None. There are too many unknowns. Too many variables. But what I do know is that it will include this...

Great Salt Lake Sunset

And this...

Biking

And this...

Antelope Island

My next thought goes right along with that - I have no idea who will be a part of my future. I have hopes, and wishes, and desires, but I really don't know. What I do know, and what was made very clear to me is that it will include them...

Thousands of birds

 

and Him...

The Lord

and yours truly.

Me enjoying birds, the sunset and biking

 That is what I know. This is what I felt quite clearly as I let the peace of the evening wash over me and settle into my heart and soul.

And so of course my future will also include moments like this...

Bison in a cabana

New Chapter

Tomorrow, July 1, begins my sojourn at Antelope Island State Park. I still have a few things to finish up here at my current park, but I will officially be the Antelope Naturalist.

I chatted briefly today with my new manager (who is also brand new starting tomorrow). I think it will be great working with him. He has some tough issues facing him, but he sounds optimistic about it all. There will be a bit of a learning curve to work through, but that will be fun. So much to learn. So much to discover.

My toughest job might be getting my family to think highly of the island rather than just considering it a stinky, dry, ugly place. :)

There is so much wildlife out there. Every time I go out I see something: bison, pronghorn, coyote, black tailed jackrabbit, northern harrier, meadow lark, great blue heron, burrowing owl... so much to discover!

I'm excited to start this chapter. I will miss those I currently work with. They have been great. They have been like a family to me for the past 9 years. But change is good. It keeps us growing and stretching.

Just Musing

I don't have any pictures or fun stuff like that to post today. I'm just here on my couch, listening to the birds outside, watching the rain fall, grateful that it's watering my lawn for me.

We have a covey of quail in my neighborhood, and they are slowing making their way to my street. I love to hear them calling out "Chi-ca-go, chi-ca-go". Kim thinks I'm nuts. But I also hear the Robins saying, "Cheerily cheer-up cheerio" and the chickadees saying, "Hi sweetie".

I haven't planted my garden yet. I was going to wait until after Mother's Day - now I need to wait until it stops raining and the ground isn't a big mud field. But I look forward to it. I've expanded my garden plot from last year. Now the question is what so I plant that will be enjoyed and consumed by my family? They aren't big veggie eaters. 

My job has changed locations. My position is being transferred to Antelope Island as of July 1. There is a park house out on the Island I will be moving into in order to reduce my commute and save hundreds of dollars on gas. Out there my neighbors will consist of bison, antelope, coyotes, hundreds of birds and lots of other wildlife. I'll see what I can do about introducing you all to them.

Short Days, Long Weeks

The days are getting shorter, the weeks are getting longer. All day today I've been thinking it was Saturday. I generally feel done with the week after just two days at work. But maybe that's just me.

I don't mind the changing of seasons. At all. In fact, that transition time is quite invigorating to me. But I do struggle with shorter days, less sunshine, more dark. However, one thing that is great about shorter days - the stars become so much more accessible. One does not have to wait until 10 pm (or later) to have a good star viewing experience. And the stars are so much brighter and more dramatic in the colder seasons.

Still, that doesn't make it any easier to go to and from work in the dark. So here's my solution and suggestion to the powers that be: I suggest we change the length of the work day proportionally to the hours of sunlight. For example, if during the summer we have 16 hours of sunlight and 8 hours of work, then during the winter, when we only have 8 hours of sunlight, we should only have 4 hours of work. I like that idea. I'll think I'll petition for it here in my little world.

Nature Quote of The Day:

"There's no night without stars" 

- Andre Norton

Yellow Maple

That's it. Just a yellow maple. While I absolutely love red maples, it isn't very often you see a nice, bright yellow one. 

Ruts

"If not, well, I'll really have to muster some hidden energy to get out of my current rut."

:::Mustering hidden energy:::

Happy October 1st

I sit here looking at the screen wondering just what wants to be written. I have a myriad of things on my mind. Some would be appropriate fodder for this blog; some not.

I love my job. I love what I do and frankly, I'm darn good at it. I love this area. Especially this time of year. I love having the opportunity to be with a group of kids, exploring, searching, discovering and learning about the world around them. I love to aid them in their discovery. And I admit, it boosts my ego when I have a teacher or parent spout about how wonderful I am, how good I am with the kids, and how they don't ever want to see me go. I hear those things and experience the awe and wonder when connections are made, and I wonder why I would ever want to leave. And part of me really doesn't because it is such a great job. However, despite everything that is good about my job, I still find myself experiencing burnout, wondering how to get myself out of this rut I've found myself in.

Hello Sunshine

And hello pond. And hello birds!

All winter the pond here at the visitor center has been empty. It was drained so we could do a little dredging this winter. Well, we did the little dredging, and then about a week ago the pond was filled again much to my delight. Since then, large and small numbers of water and some shore birds have been stopping by.

Before the pond was completely full we had a rare visit by a Long-billed Dowitcher.

These birds are basically just migratory in Utah, and while I'm sure not extremely rare in other parts of the state, they have never, to my knowledge, shown up at the pond before.  So thank you, my little friend, for sticking around for the day.

We've also had the ubiquitous Mallard, many Green-winged Teal, a few Canada Geese, and then a smattering of Buffleads, Ring-necked Ducks, Cinnamon Teals, Northern Pintails, American Wigeons, one Lesser Scaup, and a Killdeer or two.

Every morning when I pull up to the visitor center, I take a quick scan of the pond, and if I see anything that looks like it might be unusual or new, I grab the scope and take a quick look. Generally it is the usual showing listed above (the Northern Pintails and Lesser Scaup were fun to find).

Today when I pulled up, I noticed two pale/white birds that weren't really fitting the regular round-up. And sure enough, when I put the scope on them, they were new birds to the pond.

That they were gulls was obvious enough. But what kind, that was the question. My first thought were Franklin's Gulls, as that is the only hooded gull I've had experience with. But their bills were black, and I was lucky enough to see their legs - orange, not black like the Franklin's. I considered the Sabine's Gull, nope. Again the legs were the wrong color, and the bills on these birds were solid black. Bonaparte's Gulls...maybe. Closest so far on description. Little Gull? No, the wings were too long, and black tipped. Black-headed Gull? That would be a surprise, since they don't even occur in Utah, and again, the bill was the wrong color. Laughing Gull? Nope.

So back to my best guess - Bonaparte's Gull.

Bonaparte's Gulls with a Buffledhead in the background

Then I was lucky enough to see them fly away. And my guess of the Bonaparte's Gull was more fully solidified in my mind. But I am still open to suggestions. They aren't great images, but what do some of you other birders think?

 Even with the continued snow storms here and there, it is spring, and the birds know it. Turkey Vultures are back. The Swallows will be turning up soon. The air is slowly warming, the snow is melting. The sun is shining (at least today).

What a wonderful time of year!

Good-bye

My sweet friend died today. She was diagnosed with bone cancer on November 10, and was in great pain, even on narcotic pain pills. Bone caner is a very painful and rapidly progressing cancer. So it is bitter-sweet to say good-bye.

For the past 12 years, she has been an almost constant companion. She was my first therapist, even before I knew I needed one. She knew when I just needed to sit and cry, and would sit quietly with me; wipe away my tears. No flowery words. No suggestions on how to put things right. Just quiet comfort. Total understanding.

We went on many walks and outings together; backpacking, hiking, snowshoeing, and camping. She was very excited about almost everything, to the point of being obnoxious. But that was one of her endearing qualities.

She was picky about those she let get close to her, and I feel blessed to have been one of those, because once she let you in, she loved deeply and was fiercely loyal no matter what.

One time on a backpack trip, we were on the top of a mountain. Down one side was a long, broad snow field. The easy way down. :) She started going first, but as soon as I sat down, I took off, sliding out of control on the snow. I barreled right into her and kept going, with her sliding just as out of control right behind me. Before we knew it, we were at the bottom of the snow field, both a little dazed with what just happened. :)

She loved the snow but didn't particularly like being wet.

She was a companion, a headache, comic relief and a great friend. She was my sweet puppy, Harley.

Rest in peace now, sweet girl.

Harley
June 1997 - November 2009

Brand new puppy

Harley and my sister, Brenda

Portrait time

Fall, 1997. See how good she is learning to sit?

Harley and her favorite Pooh squeeze toy

Fall, 1997

Harley spending the summer with me at Brighton Girls' Camp. Summer, 1998.

Hanging out with a friend, who dubbed her "bunny-breath" because she caught a rabbit and wouldn't let us catch her to free the poor thing.

Playing in the snow! :) Winter, 1998

So happy to have this fun white stuff to play in.

Backpacking Trip, July 2001. She carried her own food.
She's slowly loosing her cute tan mottling
and becoming more and more black.

Top of the mountain

Erratic bumslide down the mountain

The cute drive home

In your face to say "hi"

Snowshoeing, Dec. 2001. She loved to break trail...for a little while.
Then she preferred to walk on the back of someone's snowshoes.

Harley and her friend, enjoying some snow time.

Winter, 2003



Meeting her new future roommate, Winter 2003

The future roommate isn't too happy about this situation.

Meeting another roommate (a leopard gecko) a year later. Fall 2004

So enthralled in this new little thing.

Everyone is just so curious with this new addition.

A new look. 2005

Sniffing everything she can get her nose on.

Waiting patiently for a birthday treat.

She approves. And is turning a little gray in the face.

One of her favorite places to be...chewing on a new bone. Christmas 2008.

Harley's handiwork in repeated escapes from the backyard. Each time we re-enforced and blocked the hole, she moved the rocks, bricks and wood, and created a bigger hole.

But...foiled at last. Summer 2009.

After discovering her cancer, she is finally allowed to sleep on the couch
without being shooed off. I just wanted her close to me. November, 2009.

Relaxing on the couch.

Sweet Harley.