As America’s democracy was grinding along, you may have stayed up a bit later last night, like me, watching election returns. At last I trundled off to bed. Then up today, earlier than usual.
The election is over. We have finally had a good rain. I want to get out and away. I figured the graded county roads wouldn’t be dusty.
Sun is out today. Sky full blue. Meadowlarks are singing as I get up into western Benton County.
https://ebird.org/checklist/S201629211<https://nam11.safelinks.protection.outlook.com/?url=https%3A%2F%2Febird.org%2Fchecklist%2FS201629211&data=05%7C02%<7Carbird-l...>%7C614b22da60ee451838d908dcfed49107%7C79c742c4e61c4fa5be89a3cb566a80d1%7C0%7C0%7C638665436143041770%7CUnknown%7CTWFpbGZsb3d8eyJFbXB0eU1hcGkiOnRydWUsIlYiOiIwLjAuMDAwMCIsIlAiOiJXaW4zMiIsIkFOIjoiTWFpbCIsIldUIjoyfQ%3D%3D%7C0%7C%7C%7C&sdata=boZI7Xip8%2BKsis0U85rTt22rxrA%2FOUfKictemFA2qfQ%3D&reserved=0> Dense roadside thickets of Giant Ragweed – favorite place for sparrows to hang – have been mowed, but the mower missed a multiflora rose thicket: sparrows including White-crowned, Song, Savannah, Lincoln, and Field. Up the road a bit: Fox Sparrow.
Expansive hayfields along Leonard Ranch road have all been mowed. But a springfed creek keeps a bottom area too wet for good hay. This year it was solid gold in Tickseed Sunflower, Bidens aristosa. Today those flowers have turned to seed. Foraging on the seeds is a busy, vocal flock of American Goldfinches.
An abandoned chicken house, maybe from 1950s, is surrounded by all kinds of farm junk and bushes. And today, my first of season Harris’s Sparrows. Just down the road, a Loggerhead Shrike perched on a utility line is maybe watching Savannah Sparrows under the barbed wire.
The county road grader was out working Austin Road. I’d slowed for a harvested bean field thinking I might pick up Lapland Longspurs. I wasn’t having much luck until the grader went by, loud banging and ear-splitting scaping. I was sort of POed about all the noise. Then up flew a flock of American Pipits.
Western Meadowlark in the background, singing. I had this funny thought: you never know when or where the gift may come. Or even the nature of the gift. The challenge for me: to be open. To be receptive.
Last bird: Greater Roadrunner, dashing across a yard. But not fast dashing. It stopped, looked slowly around, ruffed up those head feathers, cocked its long tail, then off it went. On a warming day, even in November, there are grasshoppers, maybe even a slow lizard.
Now I’ve come to my usual stopping point. Rain has flooded a low spot along Highway 43 at the end of Austin Road. Dragonflies (Variegated Meadowhawk) and damselflies (Powdered Dancer) patrol the pool, zipping back and forth, mating, egg laying.
Where were they before all the rain? And where is this life taking us. Not on Tuesday’s ballot, but maybe should be. On my ballot anyway.
