Denton Gulch Observations -- 1 |
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Denton Gulch September 22, 1999 Not many birds on this trip, a little early for winter migration. Sitings around the cabin: Sunhawks -- always flying around the sun or so it seems, making them unidentifiable which is how you know they are Sunhawks Lying Redfaced Marmots -- difficult to spot, they lie around quietly, hardly moving, until discovered, then they start chattering, and telling all kinds of bald-faced lies and their little cheeks and noses turn bright red. They're pretty funny when their lies (jokes) aren't cliche. Doh! Deer (aka Duh Deer) -- friendly deer who only come out at night. Unfortunately they have never adapted night vision, consequently they stumble around in the bushes and woods making a lot of racket. If you see them very early in the morning light, you will notice bumps on the tops of their head. These are not antlers, they're bumps from them banging into things. Nut-Headed Redbreasts -- related the Redbreasted Nuthatch. Groups of these saucy little birds will start singing with their little trumpety sounds and often end up harmonizing John Phillip Sousa tunes, especially "Be kind to your beak headed friends." Road Robins -- These brids are found at higher altitudes and only come out at dusk. They look like standard robins but are weak-winged. In the warmth of the day, the heated lighter air is not dense enough for them to fly in. By evening, the cooler denser air and breeze allow them to fly, at least, a few feet. They are often seen along roads, walking up the roads, flying 2-3 feet if alarmed. Even then they may fall down exhausted. Fortunately they are good hunters, have strong legs and beaks, and easily get their fill of worms and bugs. There is some speculation their 'wormguts' are as big of an impediment to their flying as are their 'weak' wings. Moon Mice -- we haven't seen any, which is proof of their existence. The bigger the moon gets, the less we don't see them. The more we don't see them, the more of them there are. They'd be cute, we're sure if we did see them. Cellular Beetles -- while reposing upon the porch, several reasonably sized beetles landed in our midst. They are shiny, black and have very very long antennae which they can us to pick up telephone and even TV reception. But they charge unreasonable rates, so we mostly ignore them. Pelicoulds -- We visited the Giant Springs in Great Falls, Montana. Saw some birds on the Missouri: ringnecked gulls, fabulous western brown ducks, lesser brown ducks, scaups, Canada geese, and pelicoulds. Pelicoulds -- these ridiculous creatures usually are ssen standing around on islands in the river, occasionally flying erratically, but mosty just hanging around Skipper's or even McDonalds or Wendys begging for fish and chips. Their call is: "Come on buddy buy me lunch" repeated annoyingly. They resemble pelicans, having big beaks with a pouches or jowls, and white wings with ketchupy tips. During the same trip we caught brief glimpses of Mountain Burrowing Chickadees or Chickers, a rare cross of burrowing owl and mountain chickadee, crossed again with a flicker. It's wings flash in the moonlight. We hoped to see but did not, Reggae Worms that glow in the dark, and the enormous Wolf Creek Monster Moth that reportedly can carry of a child and tickle it to death with its proboscis.
THE FLY MASSACRE -- will it ever end? Every afternoon about 5 pm we do the fly massacre (3/4 time). Hundreds of standard issue flies congregate primarily on the big north window, not the brightest but clearly the most appealling window. A few flies, with limited imaginations or limited means, assemble on the smaller south or east windows, all of them looking out the windows. The offal is always stinkier on the other side of the glass. This happy group is suddenly plunged into terror as a light blue pancake comes flying at them, crushing their Adonis-like physiques against the very glass keeping them from freedom. Some fall quickly, broken wings and legs useless. Others persist, trying heroically to fly on one weng or land on 3 good legs, buzzing defiance against the gods who wield the swatter. In the end, survivors and dead alike are tossed unceremoniously into the field, outside, where they so longingly strived to get to, and now become the offal, the rotting corpses they originally strived at the window. This occurs everyday. We always leave one fly alive to tell the next day's flies: "Go to the screen door and they'll let you out alive." But flies are stupid, and he forgets to tell them, and so the next day, it starts all over again.
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