I like to look at birds. I don’t sit around in swamps or fields for hours at a time, staring through my binoculars or anything. Actually, I don’t even own binoculars. Admittedly, the bird habitats in zoos make me a little nervous (I really hate bodily fluids from other creatures). But, when I’m driving or riding around, and I see an egret, a crane, a hawk, or even a cardinal, it makes my heart happy. If you’ve been in the car with me for any period of time, you’ve probably heard me declare my excitement over some kind of bird or another. If it annoys you, blame my parents. If it makes you think I’m pretty cool in an outdoorsy, naturalist sort of way; you’re right (but my parents should probably still get some credit).
My mom and dad do own binoculars and bird books, and whenever we were out and about on Sabbath afternoons or what-have-you, we’d use them. On our epic trip to Florida (3 weeks for Disney, the Keys, the Everglades, etc.) we kept a tally of all the cool birds we saw. Hundreds of birds were on that piece of paper. Florida has some funky birds.
Some bird sightings are so exciting that I make people stop so I can photograph them.
Yes. That is a wooden bird wearing a scarf and earmuffs. I was surprised, too, until I remembered I was in Mississippi.
Anyway, in this part of SoCal, I don’t see many cool birds. Despite our warm climate, we don’t have the tropical offerings that the awesome Florida birds appreciate, so I see a lot of red-tailed hawks, and that’s about it for my daily commute. I had to drag my students (and some of their parents) all the way out to the Salton Sea this Fall just so my students would experience some avian wildlife in its natural habitat.
That’s why, the other day, on my way out of Chipotle in San Bernardino, I just had to take a picture of this bird I found:
Crazy, right? I’m not sure, but it looks like some kind of lorikeet to me. At first I didn’t think it could fly…but it did end up flying away. I guess its wings hadn’t been clipped in awhile at least.
That bird doesn’t belong here, I’m pretty sure. Neither do I, for that matter. The bird seemed a little cold, and I was too warm for a day in March. Neither of us are Californians, but we’re here making the most of it.
At least we both know enough to eat at Chipotle.