Ode to my boots!

It’s said a favorite pair of shoes is like a best friend. You know, it’s true. My best-ever hiking boots are no more, and I miss them! We spent countless hours together on trails over the past couple of decades. Those boots share pride of place in my memory among the journal entries and photos. The scrap books with collected memorabilia. A few souvenirs on display. No matter where we went, I could always count on those boots!

So, I decided to honor them with a poem….

I bought these boots for walking

On every type of road.

With comfy fit they filled the role

Of faithful travel mode.

Mt. Rainier, Washington, US

We hiked up trails on mountains

With volcanoes at their core.

In river valleys, thermal springs

I’ve never wished for more

Forest grove or desert canyon,

Prairie grassland, sandy beach.

In spring and fall, in rain or sun

None were out of reach

Overlooking Zion National Park, Utah, US

In western parks and campgrounds

Overseas or close to home,

We’d go where nature lured us

Both far and wide we’d roam.

Tow Hill Boardwalk, Haida Gwaii, BC

A summit often beckoned

Or a path to soothe the mind.

Sometimes history called us–

More often, birds to find.

Climbing Mount Maunganui, overlooking Bay of Plenty, New Zealand

For 14 years, we shared the road

Til heels began to wear.

A fix, like new, and off again,

No thoughts of a new pair.

And then….a parting of the sole

Foretold the final tale.

Duct tape and glue a short-term fix

Eventually to fail

Time to turn the page, but still

Those boots, like memories, stay

Part of each new path I walk

Like friends not far away.

It’s time to store away the winter boots, bring out the waterproof hiking shoes I bought last spring. We began what will hopefully be a long friendship at the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland. So far, so good. Where to next?

Now in POD….

First bird of 2024

I’ve posted about chickadees before, but they rate as a favourite and they win the prize today….first bird sighting of the New Year! Of course, that was easy to predict. They are so curious and energetic, bound to be the first up for breakfast. We have a flock of 6-8 as regulars just now. They do brighten up the winter days!

A few ‘did you know?’ facts:

* the Black-capped Chickadee is one of 7 North American species

* they frequent mainland BC but not the offshore islands….the reason is still under investigation

* that black cap is pulled down to just cover their eyes…which makes the eye hard for us to see

* at the feeder, they use a ‘grab and dash’ technique…which is a challenge to photograph!

* they are able to remember 1000s of seed hiding places

* their alert call, chickadee-dee-dee…adds more dees for a greater threat

* they attract other birds to their flocks that benefit from those alarm calls

* they can live at least 10 years

* roosts may be tree holes that accommodate only one chickadee for the night

* a lower body temperature at night saves energy, especially in winter

Their perky nature, and their appetite for insects makes them easy to welcome to the garden. So glad they stay with us all year.

Tree bark with legs?

What is that piece of tree bark doing? Look closely if you hear a thin, high-pitched whistle among stands of coniferous trees in the western mountains. It’s hard to hear, and no wonder this wren-sized songbird is tough to spot as well–brown streaked with white on the back, white underneath, a down-curved bill and longish tail feathers. Blending superbly with the background, the Brown Creeper (Certhia americana) mines for insects tucked behind layers of loose bark on fir, pine or spruce trees, using its stiff tail to hold it firmly in place. You are more likely to see it hitch-hopping up a tree trunk than flying.

I caught up to this little creeper in a BC provincial park during the annual Christmas Bird Count. They’re largely non-migratory, except for changing locations by elevation in winter. Not timid, it kept on busily checking out the menu while it dodged around the trunk. I was ready with my camera when it reached my side. How lucky to be able to add one more species to our count total!

Eleven members of the treecreeper family (certhiidae) can be found worldwide in wooded regions of the northern hemisphere and sub-Saharan Africa. Brown creepers are the only ones living in North America. Keep your eyes and ears open!

First snow…and a little fun!

It’s December 1….what better way to celebrate a new month than with new snow! Here’s what the back yard looks like this morning.

Now for a little photo fun. I’ve played with photos using Paint 3D to illustrate my ebooks. Why not do the same with this poem I wrote some time ago? It’s unlikely that a chipmunk would pop up ‘on request’, but I do have both today’s winter scene and a chipmunk photo from last fall. We don’t see many of them—mostly squirrels—but I hope this chippie is still in the ‘hood’ somewhere. He may not be eating acorns, though, as we have few oak trees around here. So I invite you to use a little imagination.

Chipmunk Dreams

What does a chipmunk dream about

Curled in his winter bed?

Does he dream of acorns

And count them in his head?

Will he remember where they are,

Which log he hid them near,

When snow and ice have gone,

And warm spring days are here?

Perhaps he dreams of forests green,

Of oak trees here and there,

Growing from the acorns

That he forgot somewhere!

P.S. Did you spot the Pine Siskin on the suet feeder? We had a visit from siskins today, so I had to include one.

Old bird, new name?

Have you met the Steller’s jay—a big, bold, dark blue jay that lives in western evergreen forests? They’ve been showing up regularly in my yard, announcing their presence with loud harsh voices. Likely these are birds that nested at higher elevations in the surrounding mountains, coming down to our lake level in winter. They occur from Alaska to Central America.

The Steller’s jay has a black triangular crest, but in the Shuswap we have two Pacific forms with slightly different head markings. Interior BC birds have white streaks above the eye, while those from the coastal zone have an all-dark head, or may have blue streaks. I’m told they will interbreed in our area which is a hybridization zone for some bird species. Its cousin, the Blue jay inhabits eastern North America but is expanding westward, and ranges may overlap.

Officially the BC provincial bird since 1987, they are interesting birds to watch. With strong wings, they swoop into the yard, often in a noisy group, to raid feeders of large seed, nuts and suet. They’ll cache some food, easily remembering the location for future enjoyment. In nesting season, they are predatory, taking eggs and nestlings. But they also mob other predators to alert all of the danger.

Starting in 2024, the American Ornithological Society will embark on a project to update English names of birds in North America, if named after people. This organization began keeping a list of official bird names in the late 1800s, often choosing to honour a naturalist, explorer or well-known person who first documented a sighting of the bird. The new names will reflect a more inclusive attitude by highlighting unique features of the birds instead: think of black-capped chickadee. Two-part scientific names won’t be changed, though, as they are universally valuable for differentiating species.

The AOS hopes to actively involve the public in this process. So we will get a chance to suggest a new name for the Steller’s jay, first discovered in 1741 in Alaska by naturalist Georg Steller. There are 10 species of jays in North America, most named for details of appearance or geographic location….except for the Steller’s jay. Possible choices of name: black and blue jay, black-headed jay, black crested jay or western jay. Any other ideas?

A Few Birds of Ireland

On a recent bus tour of Ireland, I was able to get some bird photos when we stopped along waterways, visited gardens and parks, and wandered around our hotel grounds.

The Grey heron (Ardea cinerea) is the European (also African and Asian) equivalent to our Great Blue heron (Ardea herodias), although significantly smaller in height and about half the weight. It also has more white plumage on the neck, belly and thighs (where the Great Blue has rufous coloring). It’s still an impressive bird that also nests in trees. This one was nesting right outside our hotel room window in Malahide.

At first glance, I thought this Black-headed gull (Larus ridibundus) might be a Bonaparte’s or Franklin’s, familiar species at home. But it’s actually an Old World gull. It might be seen on our east coast, but rarely. The partial dark brown hood was the best clue. Both Bonaparte’s and Franklin’s have full black hoods. The Black-headed has white arcs beside the eyes.

The Chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs) is a common finch with a bubbly, descending song. Its orange-brown, and blue-grey plumage with white and black touches is distinctive. We found this one enjoying a lunch of seeds in the extensive flower gardens at Kylemore Abbey in Connemara.

Who gets the prize for most common garden bird? The Robin (Erithacus rubecula) is widespread in Irish gardens….although this was the only one we saw out in the open posing for a photo. Smaller than our American robin (Turdus migratorius), it belongs to the flycatcher family rather than thrushes. Its characteristic red breast patch isn’t as extensive, and its song is lighter and higher pitched than the mellow chirp of its American counterpart.

Here’s my list of Irish bird sightings (* is new for my Life List):

• Great cormorant (Phalacrocorax carbo)*
• Grey heron (Ardea cinerea)*
• Little egret (Egretta garzetta)*
• Mute swan (Cygnus olor)
• Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos)
• Common gull (Larus canus)*
• Black-headed gull (Larus ridibundus)
• Black-backed gull (Larus marinus)
• Herring gull (Larus argentatus)
• Rock pigeon (Columba livia)
• Woodpigeon (Columba palumbus)
• Eurasian collared dove (Streptopelia decaocto)
• Robin (Erithacus rubecula)*
• Magpie (Pica pica)*
• Hooded crow (Corvus cornix)*
• Jackdaw (Corvus monedula)*
• Rook (Corvus frugilegus)
• Barn swallow (Hirundo rustica)
• Common house martin (Delichon urbicum)
• Sand martin (Riparia riparia)*
• Pied wagtail (Motacilla alba yarrellii)
• Wren (Troglodytes troglodytes)
• Starling (Sturnus vulgaris)
• Blackbird (Turdus merula)*
• Common chaffinch (Fringilla coelebs)
• House sparrow (Passer domesticus)

Here are the birds I would have missed, only hearing them with assistance from the Merlin ID app. I wouldn’t be without this great birding tool now.

• Song thrush (Turdus philomelos)
• Blackcap (Sylvia atricapilla)
• Chiffchaff (Phylloscopus collybita)
• Willow warbler (Phylloscopus trochilus)
• Spotted flycatcher (Musciapa striata)
• Blue tit (Cyanistes caeruleus)
• Great tit (Parus major)
• Long-tailed tit (Aegithalus caudatus)
• Treecreeper (Certhia familiaris)
• European goldfinch (Carduelis carduelis)

Adding to my ebook list….

Here’s my latest publication….check it out on the E-books page

A sizable difference…

Birds come in all sizes… and these two perch at opposite ends of that spectrum.

The bald eagle regularly nests around Shuswap Lake, often returning to the same tree to repair and reuse last year’s nest. Few would challenge its place as ‘head of state’ in this area where it feeds on the plentiful waterfowl in the bay. The morning sun caught this majestic figure, calm and cool, posing for a photo.

Scale way down to the diminutive hummingbird, the tiniest bird species. Small in size…but achieving superlatives such as a migration journey that might cover almost 4000 km. And on wings that blur with speed, showing a mighty fierce temperament as it defends its favourite feeding station.

But that speed can lead to problems with windows, as this little rufous male discovered. Bouncing off the glass, luckily he landed in a flower pot newly filled with soft soil rather than on the brick patio. Still, things didn’t look good: he lay on his back with his beak driven into the soil. I scooped him up, blew away the dirt, rolled him onto his side and kept him warm.

It took about 20 minutes before he’d shuffled onto his feet. His eyes brightened, his tongue flickered out and in….and then he whirred away.

I hope it was him, next day, zooming by in pursuit of another male, probably back to defending the feeder.

Meet Bad-hair-day

A favourite winter activity is counting the birds that visit our feeders for a Birds Canada project called FeederWatch. It’s fun to add up how many of each bird species we see—and easy enough if the individuals are present at the same time. But what about when they come one by one….how many are there altogether? Is that the same bird we saw a minute ago?

Take Song Sparrows, for instance. They all wear the same pattern of feathers in shades of brown with streaked markings, and have a central breast spot. Male and females look alike, leaving no reliable way to tell individuals apart. That is…until we spotted Bad-hair-day.

This little bird is a resident around our deck and patio, and has been hanging out here for the past couple of years. He (or she) stands out due to an anomaly with the feathers on his head: instead of lying flat like shingles on a roof, one (or more) feather sticks up at an odd angle, and leaves his head with a slightly off-centre, concave shape. It looks like he gave the hairbrush a pass when he got up, hence his nickname.

At first we thought it was simply a damaged feather, a temporary problem that would correct itself next time he replaced them in a molt. But it hasn’t: he looks exactly the same as last year. Somehow, the feathers in that spot must grow imperfectly. Could he have sustained an injury there, causing malformed feathers to keep appearing in that spot? Gives him a rather rakish look, really, and so he has remained Bad-hair-day, to us.

And at least we know, if we see a Song Sparrow with a smooth head of contour feathers, we can add one more to the species total…thanks to B-h-d.