Published by Richie April 27th, 2007
in Creator Bird.
Sam writes from Oregon, “You bet I’ll post your Raven Chronicles posters around the city…and in the most relevant, high-traffic spots too. Powell’s Books is the first on my list…I bike daily all over the city anyway, it’ll be good fun and you can imagine me weaving through Portland on my Cannondale roadie spreading your good word (and work). My pleasure!”
I met Sam during a bicycle trip near the mouth of the Siltcoos River, where he was monitoring breeding activities of the endangered Western snowy plover. Now he’s pedaling, posting signs for “Creator Bird,” my short story inspired by black oystercatchers (currently accessible at the blog’s link to Raven Chronicles). Sam has also monitored neotropical birds in Panama and Coho salmon runs on the Clackamas River system. He helped find red-shouldered hawks breeding at Aghaming last year.
Very cool, very awesome. Thanks a million, Sam!
Published by Richie April 26th, 2007
in Aghaming Birds.
Copyright 2007 by Richie Swanson
Miss Muddy Miss shines like this only a few days every spring. She glistens, reflecting maples leafing out burgundy, box elders sprouting rusty and green, cottonwood-tops as soft and brushy as new willow shrubs. She still sparkles without dense-dark forest-shadows, flowing gold, blue, brown, green, red all at once, not hazed by heat or mosquitoes or midges yet, but buggy enough for the spring’s first uncommon migrant–a pine warbler. He forages in leaves shiny with sap, his breast as brightly yellow as tulip petals, and he might be bound to breed high in an old red or white pine at the Itasca headwaters, or in a jack pine farther north. Continue reading ‘Late April Shine, 4-22-07′
Published by Richie April 19th, 2007
in Aghaming Birds.
Copyright 2007 by Richie Swanson
On Thursday, Wednesday’s snow sloshes from treetops, plunking down into flood pools, and a new hollow-sounding drum unleashes itself in the woods. Ra-ta-ta-tatatatat! Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat! A yellow-bellied sapsucker’s just in from as far south as Costa Rica or Panama, hugging a hackberry, quirring, squealing. Wee-tick! Wee-tick! Wee-tick! His throat and crest flame scarlet, and he hugs a trunk above a second male, glaring as if disbelieving the trespass. The two chase each other up and down, thrusting wings half-open, threatening. Oh-wee! Oh-wee! Oh-wee! Oh-wee! They wave bills as if incensed and then fly on clapping wings up into a cottonwood suddenly crowded with plump-dangling catkins. Oh-spring? Oh-spring? Oh-really finally-spring? Continue reading ‘Drilling sap, dumping eggs, 4-15′
Published by Richie April 12th, 2007
in Aghaming Birds.
Copyright 2007 by Richie Swanson
Wintry winds howl down the upper Mississippi, and tens of thousands of tree swallows cut through the sub-freezing blasts, wings as sharp as knives, a brighter-blue than the cold-sunny water, also iridescently green. The swallows skim whitecaps, beating bat-like strokes all across the front and back channels. Gusts blow them backward, and they right themselves and flap faster, keeping pace in an apparent race to nest holes in the Northwest Territories and other environs. Tree swallows hurry upriver probably from the Gulf of Mexico and Central America, and eventually some will kill others for nest holes, wrestling inside cavities, pecking backs and heads, driving intruders down into water to drown. Continue reading ‘Despite wintry winds, 4-8-07′
Published by Richie April 6th, 2007
in Aghaming Birds.
KSMQ, Austin public television, will cover Upper Miss birds and River Bird Blog Tuesday night, April 10, 6:30 PM. Footage will include Aghaming and other river habitats, including an interview with the National Eagle Center.
Published by Richie April 5th, 2007
in Aghaming Birds.
Copyright 2007 by Richie Swanson
Though he’s the smallest duck on the river, the 20-ounce bufflehead guards his mate as aggressively as a 12-pound goose. Another male swims through the tight-knit flock, coming close, and the first lowers his bill and charges him, and the intruder spins away, and the first male sits up in a flurry of splashes, fluttering black-and-white. The white patches on his face swell suddenly into perfect-looking circles. He pumps his head again and again, flinging it vigorously backward, and then a northern flicker whoops high-rising cries. Kick!Kick!Kick!Kick!Kick!Kick! The woodpecker atop the big, old, river birch and the buffleheads diving in water to eat insects seem unrelated. But the duck depends upon the “yellow-hammer” to reproduce. Continue reading ‘Ducks in drizzle and rain, 4-01-07′
