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with Phyllis Yochem
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Tuesday, July 25, 2000
Quest for 'feathered jewels' leads to other treasures
Searching for, but not finding, prismatic painted buntings leads to roadrunners, anis, and other prizes
My mother used to love to go browsing for antiques. When asked if she could be helped, she would describe an impossible treasure and, when told the store did not have it, she would say, "Well, I guess I will just look around and see what you do have."
This Zen-like technique works well for summer birding. Several times in late afternoon we have gone out to try to hear (and thereby find) painted buntings, a worthy but elusive goal.
The way to find buntings is to go to a likely habitat, with small trees and plenty of underbrush, and drive around slowly, car windows open. An occasional stop with motor off is a good idea. When the characteristic song - "scritchy, scratchy," up and down, in search of melody - is heard, look at treetops as far as can be seen in every direction. Next look through every opening between treetops. Painted buntings are so bright, so colorful, but oh-so tiny.
Feeding frenzy
We heard one of the little feathered jewels singing, far, far away in Flour Bluff. On another day, I had received a call, "a voice out of your past," he said. The caller was Ted Jones, retired Miller High School biology teacher, whose eloquent voice in matters environmental is unforgettable. He had seen, in a hollow that still held a little water, a feeding frenzy of wading birds, including wood ibis.
I finally found the marsh remnant and could see enough to be tantalized but could not get safely off the highway close enough to get a picture or even a very good look. As the water decreased, the birds were being forced closer together and farther out of view.
I thought I would drive a dirt road or two and might find another such pondlet, or even hear a painted bunting. The lucky by-sighting was a pair of flirting road-runners.
Other good things
A usually reliable location for painted buntings is McKenzie Lane and the dead-end Carbon Plant Road off Interstate-37. It was plenty hot with windows down, even after 6 p.m., and if the buntings were there, we missed them.
But other good things turned up. A Harris hawk and a Cooper's hawk were no doubt competing for tiny critters to eat. Several young scissor-tailed flycatchers called "wheep!" from the high wires. A brown-crested flycatcher appeared to be nesting. Northern cardinals ticked and boasted about a successful summer.
A pair of ground doves startled from the slide of the road. Mourning doves were numerous. Best of all, several sneaky groove-billed anis appeared from the ebony trees on the hillside, crossed the road single file, and sat on the lower branches of a small bush, drooping their long tails.
Phyllis Yochem, a Corpus Christi
resident, has studied birds of Texas since 1960.
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