Author: turndoozie

You know you’re not in Michigan when the trees have coconuts on them and you can sit outside without shivering. I like it.

Coconuts. We’re not in Okemos anymore Toto.

Our trip started last night with Molly’s water polo tournament down in Saline. They did great winning 15 – 0. They’ve won their first two games but didn’t look as good as they could have. At the tournament the whole team clicked into place and they were looking like one smooth operation. Found out today they won every game in the tournament, by good leads. I like it.

After the game Lise and I headed down to stay by the airport. Then it was up early to catch the 6:30 AM shuttle to the airport, followed by a cramped bumpy ride to Miami. I’m talking real bumpy, like people moaning. I had Laverne and Shirley sitting beside me. They were thinking we were about to meet the choir invisible. But we made it safe and sound to balmy 80 degree temperatures. It was 35 degrees in Okemos today. I like it.

The ship doesn’t sail until tomorrow so we’re in a motel near the airport. I’ve heard a lot more Spanish here than English. In fact, the only English speakers have this pasty white pall to their skin. You can spot them glowing down the street. We ate lunch in an Ecuadorian restaurant and we were the only native English speakers. I think we were the only English speakers period. At least the menu had enough English on that we could figure out what we were getting. Plus they had big pictures of the food up on the wall that you could point to. So in the middle of the NCAA basketball tournament we are sitting in an Ecuadorian restaurant watching South American soccer in Spanish. All sportscasters are alike. You don’t need to know Spanish to figure out something great just happened. I like it.

There’s a park nearby that isn’t much more than a running trail around a large pond and some soccer fields in the middle of a built up area. We took a little stroll and got 10 new birds for the year. So far the list is boat-tailed grackle, northern mockingbird, palm warbler, blue-headed vireo, Eurasian collared dove, moorhen, white ibis, green heron, purple martin, and Caspian tern. I like it.

Immature white ibis flying.

Immature white ibis flying.

 Immature white ibis eating. 

Common moorhen.

Swarm of bees on the bench I was sitting on.

We’re getting desperate here. Our winter just seems to be dragging on. Usually by the end of March there are enough warm days to give one hope for spring. Not this year. It starts playing with your brain. I’m hearing hungry wolves howling at night.

Lise decided it was springtime and we should grill dinner. So last night I fired up the grill inside the garage and grilled some chops. Snowflakes were coming down. I drew the line with eating outside. The wolves might make a move for the pork chops.

Garage grilling. The white smears are snow flakes. The person with the apron is a different kind of flake.

Today was sunny, beautiful, and 19 degrees Fahrenheit. I tried to do some ice and water pictures along the Red Cedar but it didn’t work out too well. The river is in a flood stage. I broke through the ice a couple times so decided that with discretion being the better part of valor I’d try something else. Like drinking a glass of warm sake with my feet propped up. According to Roger’s explorers’ blog (http://www.newworldexploration.com/) I should add some lime juice to prevent scurvy. Works for me. No scurvy so far.

Ferguson Park, on the Red Cedar about a block from our house.

Not exactly ADA approved handicap parking.

A water park for our feathered friends.

Ice on water.

Ice on water.

We did get in some birding the past few days. On Friday we chased a greater white-fronted goose down at Kensington Metro Park. Didn’t see the goose but we both got hooded merganser, gadwall, pied-billed grebe, and American widgeon. I also got red-winged blackbird which Lise got down in Indiana. Then yesterday I saw a cedar waxwing, eating berries in a tree at the health club. Eye level and a great view. We both have 74 species for the year so far.  

St. Patrick’s Day, the day we celebrate Ireland’s patron saint and Irish heritage in general. In Ireland this is a religious holiday. Here it is more a reason to dye beer green and drink too much. As in, what’s five miles long and has an IQ of 30? The New York St. Patrick ’s Day parade.

I saw somewhere that over 10% of our population claims some kind of Irish heritage. That includes my family. I can remember as a kid my dad having records of John McCormick singing in Gaelic. Not that he could understand it; he just liked to hear it. While he was drinking green beer.

I’m celebrating my heritage flat on my back, sick. It feels like someone is standing on my chest. I’m on the couch buried under a pile of Winnie the Pooh and dinosaur blankets and have slept for about 13 of the past 16 hours. To the point I’m worried about getting bedsores. The lizard has been eyeing me up like a wounded cricket, hoping for an easy meal. I still plan to have a shot or two of usquebaugh, the water of life.  My favorite is Tullamore Dew. I figure it’ll either bring some life back into me or give the lizard a fine Irish feast. And no, that would not be a six-pack and a baked potato.

After a couple of pleasant days, the temperatures have dropped back to cold weather. Lise and I had a couple free hours yesterday so we hit a few places on the Grand River with open water. The river is really high and fast so we didn’t see too much except the regulars. On the way home we hit some fields and got our Sandhill cranes for the year. The cranes put Lise at 69 for the year and me at 67 for the year.

Horned lark on a hay bale at the MSU fields.

Turkey vulture trying to become one with his dinner.

Ice on water, two things we have an abundance of right now.

Following are the words to a couple songs of insurrection. These came out after the 1798 uprising.  Any good Fenian would know them. Both use the same tune and there are numerous variants to the words. This version of The Wearing of the Green was done by Dion Boucicault in the early 1860s for a play but there are plenty of other versions from the very early 1800s. Erin go Bragh (Éirinn go Brách).

The Wearing of The Green (Dion Boucicault (1820-1890))       

O Paddy dear, and did you hear the news that going round? The shamrock is forbid by law to grow on Irish ground;

St. Patrick’s Day no more we’ll keep, his colours can’t be seen, For there’s a bloody law against the wearing of the green.

I met with Napper Tandy and he took me by the hand, And he said, “How’s poor old Ireland, and how does she stand?”

She’s the most distressful counterie that ever yet was seen, And they’re hanging men and women for the wearing of the green.

The wearing of the green, the wearing of the green,They’re hanging men and women there for wearing of the green.

Then since the colour we must wear is England’s cruel red, Sure Ireland’s sons will ne’er forget the blood that they have shed.

You may take a shamrock from your hat and cast it on the sod, It will take root and flourish there though underfoot it’s trod.

When law can stop the blades of grass from growing as they grow, And when the leaves in summer-time their verdure dare not show,

Then will I change the colour that I wear in my caubeen, But ‘till that day, please God, I’ll stick to wearing of the green.

The wearing of the green, the wearing of the green, They’re hanging men and women there for wearing of the green.

But if at last our colour should be torn from Ireland’s heart, Our sons with shame and sorrow from this dear old isle will part;

I’ve heard a whisper of a land that lies beyond the sea, Where rich and poor stand equal in the light of freedom’s day.

O Erin, must we leave you driven by a tyrant’s hand? Must we ask a mother’s blessing from a strange and distant land?

Where the cruel cross of England shall nevermore be seen, And where, please God, we’ll live and die still wearing of the green!

The wearing of the green, the wearing of the green, They’re hanging men and women there for wearing of the green.

The Rising of the Moon

“Oh! then tell me, Shawn O’Ferrall, Tell me why you hurry so?” “Hush ma bouchal, hush and listen”, And his cheeks were all a-glow.

“I bear orders from the captain, Get you ready quick and soon, For the pikes must be together at the risin’ of the moon”.

At the risin’ of the moon, at the risin’ of the moon, For the pikes must be together at the risin’ of the moon.

“Oh! then tell me, Shawn O’Ferrall, Where the gatherin’ is to be?” “In the ould spot by the river, Right well known to you and me.

One word more—for signal token Whistle up the marchin’ tune, With your pike upon your shoulder, By the risin’ of the moon”.

By the risin’ of the moon, by the risin’ of the moon, With your pike upon your shoulder, by the risin’ of the moon.

Out from many a mudwall cabin Eyes were watching thro’ that night, Many a manly chest was throbbing For the blessed warning light.

Murmurs passed along the valleys Like the banshee’s lonely croon, And a thousand blades were flashing at the risin’ of the moon.

At the risin’ of the moon, at the risin’ of the moon, And a thousand blades were flashing at the risin’ of the moon.

There beside the singing river That dark mass of men was seen, Far above the shining weapons Hung their own beloved green.

“Death to ev’ry foe and traitor! Forward! strike the marchin’ tune, And hurrah, my boys, for freedom! ‘Tis the risin’ of the moon”.

‘Tis the risin’ of the moon, ‘Tis the risin’ of the moon, And hurrah my boys for freedom! ‘Tis the risin’ of the moon.

Well they fought for poor old Ireland, And full bitter was their fate (Oh! what glorious pride and sorrow Fill the name of Ninety-Eight).

Yet, thank God, e’en still are beating Hearts in manhood’s burning noon, Who would follow in their footsteps, At the risin’ of the moon!

At the rising of the moon, at the risin’ of the moon, Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin’ of the moon.

 

Today is Pi day. 3.14.

Pi is the ratio of a circle circumference to its diameter. A long time ago somebody was rolling logs around and figured out that one revolution of a round object went just about three times the diameter of the object.

Pi is an irrational number, meaning that it has an infinite number of non-repeating decimal places. Not to be confused with irrational legislators that have the unfortunate property of constantly repeating themselves. People have been calculating the value of Pi since antiquity. Egyptians and Babylonians got to within a percent or so over a thousand years BC. More modern attempts at refining the value have given us about a trillion digits. You can download Pi to a million digits off the internet. A really cool party trick is reciting the first hundred decimal places of Pi. At least the parties I go to, which aren’t many.

In a testimonial to legislative stupidity, the 1897 Indiana House of Representatives passed a bill to establish a different value of Pi so some Hoosier mathematician could find an easier way to compute the area of a circle. Never mind that Pi is an unchangeable physical constant, this august body of idiots preferred a different reality. I can’t say things have changed much in the Indiana legislature, or many other state legislatures for that matter. For some reason these mental midgets seem to think they can legislate reality into something they have the ability to understand. Which isn’t much. Like intelligent design. Which is why Indiana legislators, when asked to compute the area of a circle, are likely to say, “But Pi r square is wrong. Pi r round, cake r square.”

We got in a tiny bit of birding this week. A red-necked grebe was reported at the power plant on the Grand River in downtown Lansing. We scurried down there at sunrise on Monday and saw it as it was swimming downstream out of sight. Others chased it right after us with no luck, but it did show up again last night. We also got a ring-necked duck there and a house wren has showed up in the neighborhood. Singing its little heart out. Despite the snow on Wednesday and the zero degree temperatures Thursday morning, spring is coming. And I for one am really ready for it.

So get out there and enjoy a piece of Pi.

Looks like we turned a corner weather-wise. We’ve had a couple days over 30 degrees Fahrenheit and some of the white stuff is melting away.

No major outings for Michigan wildlife but we took Molly and her bud Rachael down to the Detroit Zoo today. Something we should have thought of during the polar vortex nastiness. The zoo has some really nice and very warm indoor exhibits like a butterfly room, an aviary, and a reptile house. Pleasantly warm, bordering on hot. Must have cost a fortune keeping them heated at zero Fahrenheit. At least the polar bear and the seals liked the polar vortex.

The zoo crew.

A very warm glass-winged butterfly.

Blue morpho butterfly.

Blue morpho butterfly.

Moo at the zoo.

Act like a penguin.

Act like a penguin, reprise.

Spring is happening and we have been getting reports of early migrants moving in. We saw my first of year turkey vulture and we both got common grackle at the zoo. Common species but they do mean things are happening. There have been local reports of red-winged blackbirds and sandhill cranes too. The Carolina wrens and cardinals in the yard have been doing their territorial calling. I’m liking this. We will have more nasty weather but it’s unlikely we will have weeks of single digit temperatures. Dragonflies are right around the corner.

So for something different we got another four inches of snow last night. Somebody must have thought we were running short. So when there’s not much exciting going on you may as well mess with the lizard. We put her in the shower, one of her favorite exercises. Exercises as in something to do, not exercises that make muscles. So she was in the shower hanging out and loving the warm water for a while until we finally pulled her out. To pout she went into the corner under my desk.  

Fido in the shower.

Fido pouting in the corner.

We did get in a little birding today. We went to Moore’s Park, in Lansing right across the Grand River from a power plant. The power plant towers kind of dominate the downtown Lansing landscape. They have blinking lights so they’re nicknamed Winken, Blinken, and Nod. Anyway, we got greater scaup, horned grebe, and the peregrine falcon that has been hanging out at the power plant. Lise has 64 species for the year and I have 61. So we’re averaging about two species a day so far. Not what I would call a blistering big year pace but given our nasty weather I can live with it.

Winkin, Blinkin, and Nod.

Not too much going on except for survival. It’s 0 degrees Fahrenheit right now and we’re supposed to hit -14 F tonight. I really don’t like whining but this weather is just plain nasty. It physically hurts to be outside. Not a lot of fun trying to get to work when you’re dressed in office attire.

I am so tired of this. Make it stop.

Even if you’re dressed for the weather single digit temperatures are tough going. Everything is harder to do. Trying to use binoculars or a camera is right out. At least for me. I remember seeing an exhibition of photographs by Frank Hurley, the photographer on Shackleton’s 1914 ill-fated Antarctic expedition. He took excellent photographs in pretty harsh conditions using glass plate negatives. He was even doing color in 1914. No Gore-tex and polypro fleece, these guys had wool and oilskins. This is what is meant by the term “wooden ships and iron men.”

Frank Hurley photo taken from the internet.

Frank Hurley photo taken from the internet.

I may have gotten a peregrine falcon at work but didn’t see it well enough for confirmation. The building across the street from the office is undergoing a major rehab. They erected this huge crane in the courtyard. Installing the crane itself was pretty cool. They used this honking big portable crane to erect the stationary crane. Had to close the street for about a week. Major entertainment for us Y chromosomes. On Tuesday all us Y chromosomes were watching the crane move things off the building roof when a hawk blasted by chasing a pigeon. It had to be a peregrine but it blew by too fast for confirmation. So now I can’t be accused of checking out construction, I’m looking for peregrine falcons.

Entertainment for Y chromosomes. Too cool!

Except for one really nice exception, it’s been a really slow birding week. Last weekend someone over in Hastings reported long-eared owls at his home. So Sunday Lise, Barb and I skedaddled over there to see them. We were visitors 58, 59, & 60. He had a well-worn path through the snow to a set up a scope. Species number 53 for me and 58 for Lise. A lifer for Lise too.

The rest of the week we have pretty much been doing the wage slave thing. Really nothing new to report on that front. The big news is the weather. Apparently some great power has gotten tired of screwing with us and raised the temperatures above freezing. The joke isn’t quite over though. When the temperature goes up the ice starts melting. Like any well behaved fluid, flowing water obeys gravity and takes the path of least resistance. Which in this case means going behind the siding and seeping into our living room floor. So I spent the morning up on a ladder removing ice dams from the roof and guttering. This was the north side of the house which hasn’t seen sunlight since about October. We’re talking ice dams that looked like the Greenland ice sheet.

Okemos weather.

We’ve also been getting ready for the Panama Canal cruise. Apparently three of our dinners are to be formal attire. Tuxedos or dinner jackets recommended, neither of which I own. So for laughs I Googled information about formal wear. Most of the pictures were either of James Bond or some guy named George Clooney. The only assumption I can make is that I’ll turn into one of these two if I buy a tux.

Haven’t gotten in any new photography time so I went back through old photos to do some black and white work.

Anemone, California.

Dead jellyfish, Texas coast.

Kelp, California.

Sunset, Missisilpin River, Delaware.

Sunset, Oregon coast.

Reflecting rushes, Sand Lake, Deerton, MI.

The temperatures drifted a little north of 15 Fahrenheit a couple times this past week so we took advantage of it. Monday afternoon we did a little cross country skiing at Lake Lansing North and got a hairy woodpecker. And, I didn’t fall once.

Several goodies have been reported at Maple River State Game Area so Thursday we took a little jaunt up there. Heard a great horned owl, while sitting in the car we had great looks at a northern harrier, and we saw a rough-legged hawk and ring-neck pheasants. While walking a berm I watched a coyote going across the frozen water. It must have sensed me watching it because it stopped, turned partially around, stared directly at me for a couple minutes, and then dropped behind some cattails. About that time a snow squall blew in, killing our chances of hearing any other owls so we headed back. For dinner we hit Sinhu, a great local Indian restaurant that Lindsay recommended. This is the first time in the United States I have seen goat on the menu. I’ve had some pretty tough steaks in the past so I wouldn’t be surprised if I had goat disguised as some other protein source. No disguise here, this was advertised as goat. I had my mind set on something else so I didn’t try it, but will do so in the near future.

Today we went back over to Berrien County to do some cross country skiing at Love Creek Nature Center. We got a good three hours of skiing in, and I didn’t fall once (I can’t make the same claim – Lise). Even after the 20 oz. beer I had with lunch at Nuggets down in Niles. Lise got cedar waxwings while we were skiing. I just got the rosy glow of not falling in the past two times I’ve gone skiing. While we were skiing Molly had another water polo skirmish with the Ann Arbor club team. So most of our family members have been exercising this past week. With the exception of a certain lizard that has spent the past 36 hours flopped over a heating vent.

36 hours and counting.

While I was working out at the gym last week the Winter Olympics were on the televisions. I’m plugged into my music when I’m on the running machines so I can’t hear the commentary. I was lucky enough to be watching the curling matches so the commentary really wasn’t that important. The stands were just packed for that one. Watching curling is about as exciting as watching ice fishing. I’m sure it takes a lot of skill but so does darts and billiards. The Scots have given us so many other good things, like scotch, haggis and bagpipes, why curling? And then to make it an Olympic sport. If you want a Scottish sport for the Olympics, why not caber tossing? Guys in kilts throwing telephone poles around is infinitely more amusing than watching people sweep the ice in front of a stone.

Winter never seems to end here. Even Frosty the Flamingo is getting just a little tired of it.

Frosty the Flamingo says “Hi.”

All the roads are lined with snowbanks. This morning somebody about  a block down the street managed to park his car on the snowbank alongside Okemos Road. Not one you can try driving away from before the cops show up. At least it breaks up the boredom a bit.

Oops.

So that nice Irish boy, President O’bama, decided to sign the farm bill into law at MSU on Friday. Makes some sense symbolically. MSU is the oldest land grant school so there is a minor tie to agriculture. This place probably has the greatest density of FFA jackets on the planet. Anyway, I was working on campus that day. When I go for coffee in these arctic temperatures I keep my coffee cup under my coat so it stays warm. Walking back from Espresso Royale I noticed I look like I’m wearing a suicide belt. Even better, I’m wearing an old olive-drab army field jacket that screams, “I’m homeless and have nothing to live for.” Gives the Secret Service guys something to get excited about. I figured that if I could pick them out I would avoid being pinned to the ground while trying to explain that I hate cold coffee. I started looking at everyone to decide who was trying just a little too hard to blend in. Had to be the guys wearing Sparty helmets and no shirts with their chests painted green and white. The microphones and headsets gave them away. So I made it back to Giltner Hall safe and sound, and got to watch the helicopters flying around.

Yesterday, Lise, Barb and I went over to Muskegon to get a couple rarities. Both a king eider and a Barrow’s goldeneye were reported in the only open water around Muskegon, a small channel connecting frozen Lake Muskegon to frozen Lake Michigan. Lake Michigan is so frozen that this is the first time I’ve been there without the breakwater being lined by crazy fishermen. There just isn’t any open water they can safely get to. Safe is a relative term here. These guys fish off an icy breakwater in wicked cold conditions, usually with high winds. They are so bundled up that if they went in the water it would be a really quick one way trip to Davey Jones. If those guys aren’t out there, something’s wrong.

Looking over the beach through a snow squall towards the breakwater lighthouse. There’s a major freshwater body out there somewhere. The black lines on the beach are drift fences.

On the plus side for winter arctic birding, the ice has pushed a lot of birds normally out on Lake Michigan into whatever water is left. Over on the east side of the state, a frozen Lake Huron has pushed between ten and 20 thousand long-tailed ducks into the St Clair River channel. Over on the west side in Muskegon, the eider and the Barrow’s goldeneye showed up. So off we went.

I have to say, this is the first time I’ve been winter birding in Muskegon and it was fairly easy to get the targets. Usually we are out there with the fishermen, walking an icy breakwater in windy conditions, looking at tiny specks bobbing out on the water. This time, we pulled up to the pier that was loaded with scopes and big lenses, hopped out, and there was the king eider. The Barrow’s was a short distance away in the same channel. Both these species are high latitude coastal species. The Barrow’s was a lifer for Lise and me.

Barb and Lise in blue. That’s their clothing, not their skin. Notice the guy who’s wife let him buy a big lens. His is so big he has to camouflage it.

We got great looks at a number of not rare species too. Usually these things are off in the distance. This time we could actually see details. We got common loon, red-breasted merganser, long-tailed duck, common goldeneye, and white-winged scoter in the channel.

Mr. and Mrs. long-tailed duck.

Aptly named common goldeneye.

White-winged scoter.

White-winged scoter eating a crayfish.

On the way back we drove through the ever popular Muskegon Waste Water Treatment Plant. National Audubon has actually designated the WWTP as an important bird area. We were hoping for raptors there but the snow picked up, restricting their flying and our vision.Did have good views of two bald eagles.

Bald eagle in the snow at the Muskegon WWTP.

We stopped at one ditch where we saw a great blue heron and of all things, three Wilson’s snipe. Both species apparently finding enough food to survive. The snipe in particular should be down south right now. There are some snipe in Florida that have got to be laughing at the three we found.

A quick shot of the great blue heron and Wilson’s snipe in the snow.