Yes, I can be one of those. I hate to admit it, but its true.
I was first accused of being blasé back in the 6th grade, when I had returned from a trip to exotic San Francisco with my folks. I didn't have a lot to say about it. I had somehow managed to become obscessed with a trinket ring in Chinatown and missed most of the important parts of that trip.
I had to look blasé up in the dictionary after my teacher accused me of suffering from it (and rightly so).
As I sit and write this, "my" Brown Thrasher has stopped by for visit number two today. He (or she?) stops around every day, usually to busily pierce the dirt around a water dish for a bit and sometimes to claim the hanging suet feeder for awhile. Sometimes there's a bit of a tussle with the grackles or sparrows, but I suspect that's part of the reason why it shows up.
I suspect that the Brown Thrasher might well have been the bird that first alerted me to the fact that birds were, in fact, interesting.
They can be a little sneaky -- or perhaps "furtive" is a better word.
Little kids are fascinated by challenging birds. Or bugs. We didn't care. We just wanted the challenge.
To see Brown Thrashers, we had to pay attention at least a little bit. They make a few different noises to alert you to the fact that they're around .... interesting, unique noises too.
But enough about thrashers, let's think about something more exotic!
During a recent weekend bird festival organized by Montana Audubon, I chose to tag along on a field trip that aspired to find such relatively unusual species as Sprague's Pipit, Chestnut-collared Longspur, Baird's Sparrow and Grasshopper Sparrow.
Our trip leader was an enthusiastic (and obviously knowledgeable) graduate student, who quickly fulfilled our desire to see the target species. She offered a great deal of insight into the very specialized prairie birds -- couldn't have asked for a better trip leader!
And then, on the way home, we encountered the Brown Thrasher.
Our energetic leader didn't hesitate for an instant to wade off through the brush (and wood ticks, likely) to get a closer look at, or maybe chase out, a Brown Thrasher that she thought she had glimpsed.
I watched, slightly dumbfounded, as she left her research assistants behind and took off through the brush on a second possible sighting -- and then a third.
Here was a young woman who had expertly located unusual pipits, longspurs and prairie sparrows and described in great and entertaining detail their behaviors and habitat requirements, now chasing through brush and wood ticks a bird that I see almost every day in my front yard.
So I am guilty of being blasé yet again.
Birding works that way, I've found. We're all blessed with special treasures of one sort or another.
Remember to share them often.
I was first accused of being blasé back in the 6th grade, when I had returned from a trip to exotic San Francisco with my folks. I didn't have a lot to say about it. I had somehow managed to become obscessed with a trinket ring in Chinatown and missed most of the important parts of that trip.
I had to look blasé up in the dictionary after my teacher accused me of suffering from it (and rightly so).
As I sit and write this, "my" Brown Thrasher has stopped by for visit number two today. He (or she?) stops around every day, usually to busily pierce the dirt around a water dish for a bit and sometimes to claim the hanging suet feeder for awhile. Sometimes there's a bit of a tussle with the grackles or sparrows, but I suspect that's part of the reason why it shows up.
I suspect that the Brown Thrasher might well have been the bird that first alerted me to the fact that birds were, in fact, interesting.
They can be a little sneaky -- or perhaps "furtive" is a better word.
Little kids are fascinated by challenging birds. Or bugs. We didn't care. We just wanted the challenge.
To see Brown Thrashers, we had to pay attention at least a little bit. They make a few different noises to alert you to the fact that they're around .... interesting, unique noises too.
But enough about thrashers, let's think about something more exotic!
During a recent weekend bird festival organized by Montana Audubon, I chose to tag along on a field trip that aspired to find such relatively unusual species as Sprague's Pipit, Chestnut-collared Longspur, Baird's Sparrow and Grasshopper Sparrow.
Our trip leader was an enthusiastic (and obviously knowledgeable) graduate student, who quickly fulfilled our desire to see the target species. She offered a great deal of insight into the very specialized prairie birds -- couldn't have asked for a better trip leader!
And then, on the way home, we encountered the Brown Thrasher.
Our energetic leader didn't hesitate for an instant to wade off through the brush (and wood ticks, likely) to get a closer look at, or maybe chase out, a Brown Thrasher that she thought she had glimpsed.
I watched, slightly dumbfounded, as she left her research assistants behind and took off through the brush on a second possible sighting -- and then a third.
Here was a young woman who had expertly located unusual pipits, longspurs and prairie sparrows and described in great and entertaining detail their behaviors and habitat requirements, now chasing through brush and wood ticks a bird that I see almost every day in my front yard.
So I am guilty of being blasé yet again.
Birding works that way, I've found. We're all blessed with special treasures of one sort or another.
Remember to share them often.
