I noted with interest this week the headline about UFOs, out of O'Hare International Airport in Chicago. This is no big deal, people. I see them all the time. I have many friends who see them regularly. We sometimes see them together and we're not shy about reporting them. As birdwatchers, we see Unidentified Flying Objects, or Unidentified Feathered Objects, everywhere. Just last week, while hiking with good friend, Pieter Thoenes, at Cold Creek Forest & Wildlife Centre, on the 11th of King Township, I spotted one that I had never seen at Cold Creek before. Drawn by its eerie presence, I crept closer and closer. Turns out it was a Brown Creeper and it became the 111th bird on the Cold Creek Bird Species List.
There is another whole segment of the birdwatching community out there who prefer to call hard-to-identify birds, like the Brown Creeper, LBJs, or Little Brown Jobbies. They people have their feet firmly planted on the ground and can be a little boring.
I came across two new nectars during Christmas and New Years. The first was offered up by Friend Thoenes, who shared a dram of his Glenrothes Vintage Malt Whiskey which I can only describe as sublime. The other was Forty Bench Barrel Select Whisky, shared by my sister-in-law, Marg Asbury and her husband, Richard. Smells like Port, go downs like a Scotch, but is all-Canadian. On the palate, it's like a moose antler - big, bold and beautiful, and the finish is as smooth as an otter's belly.
Old friends, Cam Inglis and Murray Skinner, both think I missed a golden opportunity, with my first blog, to morph from BarrytheBirder to BarrytheBlogger. Oh well, life's rich pageant is filled with lots of those little missed chances. Daughter number one, Allison, thought it was 'cool!', while daughter number two, Auralee (the writer and English professor), can't believe her old man's got a blog site before she has.
I have two haikus this week and they are for my new grandkids, Will and Emmy, who are pictured below, at Christmas.
I was an ancient
Then you were born my grandson
Joy is bouncing back
Bright brown eyes pierce me
My life is starting over
There is another whole segment of the birdwatching community out there who prefer to call hard-to-identify birds, like the Brown Creeper, LBJs, or Little Brown Jobbies. They people have their feet firmly planted on the ground and can be a little boring.
I came across two new nectars during Christmas and New Years. The first was offered up by Friend Thoenes, who shared a dram of his Glenrothes Vintage Malt Whiskey which I can only describe as sublime. The other was Forty Bench Barrel Select Whisky, shared by my sister-in-law, Marg Asbury and her husband, Richard. Smells like Port, go downs like a Scotch, but is all-Canadian. On the palate, it's like a moose antler - big, bold and beautiful, and the finish is as smooth as an otter's belly.
Old friends, Cam Inglis and Murray Skinner, both think I missed a golden opportunity, with my first blog, to morph from BarrytheBirder to BarrytheBlogger. Oh well, life's rich pageant is filled with lots of those little missed chances. Daughter number one, Allison, thought it was 'cool!', while daughter number two, Auralee (the writer and English professor), can't believe her old man's got a blog site before she has.
I have two haikus this week and they are for my new grandkids, Will and Emmy, who are pictured below, at Christmas.
I was an ancient
Then you were born my grandson
Joy is bouncing back
Bright brown eyes pierce me
My life is starting over
This child is a gift
Well, I must wrap this up. It's a beautiful day and I have to cut the grass. I wouldn't surprise me at all to see snow one of these days, before the end of January.
Please comment if you wish, BtheB
Well, I must wrap this up. It's a beautiful day and I have to cut the grass. I wouldn't surprise me at all to see snow one of these days, before the end of January.
Please comment if you wish, BtheB
1 comment:
I say down with the birds, and up with the baby talk old man.
Signed Emmy
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