Rick’s Big Day
Rick hadn’t been to this park before and was counting on it having a small and empty parking lot. He had been working all day and only had the evening to get out and put up some numbers. Since Rick had just started birding last spring, today was his first Big Day, the day in birding to try and record as many bird species a you can. He was excited to participate, although he wasn’t going to be going with anyone and didn’t anticipate meeting any other birders at the park he was going to. He had wanted to have the day off, but he didn’t want to try and explain the Big Day to his boss.
Getting out of the car, he walked over to the trailhead that had the map, took a quick glance at it and went on his way. He didn’t get 10 ft down the trail when he realized, Goddamnit, I need to take a piss...every time. No bathrooms at this park, on par with many of the other county parks. You can’t waste money on a bathroom when you can barely pay college grads minimum wage to cut and dab buckthorn and honeysuckle all day. Why don’t those folks who donate money for benches so they can have a plaque with their name on it also throw in for a bathroom? Rick’s plaque on the bathroom would say “From Rick, so that you may enjoy your hike without the burning sensation in your bladder.”
He resolved to find a place off trail in a little bit, he wanted to get a little farther from the parking lot and get a better sense of the place. The park seemed nice thus far, a medium sized river flowed through it and by the looks of the surrounding vegetation, the medium sized river was a large sized river last week when the major rain storm came through. Quickly, Rick noted the Cardinal (1) couple chasing each other around, the solitary Blue Jay (2) screaming from a Cottonwood, and from an unseen place within the reeds near the river, he heard the robotic calls of the Red-winged Blackbird (3). None of these broke his stride or caused him to pause; numbers were the name of the game today.
He came out of the riparian zone and into an open prairie, A large bird glided through the sky, Rick pulled his binoculars up despite already knowing what it was. The Turkey Vulture (4) rode the thermal currents round and around without flapping its wings for a second. Bringing the binoculars back down to their resting position, his eyes adjusted to the sky and saw more large birds in the same thermal current as the Turkey Vulture. Two more vultures and... something else, he thought to himself, binoculars back to active position. A hawk! But what kind...?
While always being appreciative of hawks, Rick’s ID abilities were quite limited when it came to this group. Everything always just looked like a Red-tailed Hawk to him. Only until recently had he began to understand that since he was a child, many of the hawks he thought as Red-tailed could have been a Cooper’s, a Sharp-shinned, a Broad-winged, a Rough-legged, a Red-shouldered or even a Harrier. Even within the Red-tailed species there were a few varieties: the borealis, the abieticola, the calculus/alascensis, the Harlan’s. All this time he had been living in the dark when it came to hawks, who knew?
The hawk was mostly white underneath with a vaguel speckled line of brown across the chest and a reddish tail, Red-tailed (5). Okay that wasn’t too hard. His ID confidence growing each time he saw something he was positive on. He watched the hawk glide through the air, the only thing moving was its head and tail; which looked like it was being pulled one way or the other by marionette strings. Following the bird, Rick soon realized it was directly above of where he was. He pulled the binoculars down from his eyes for a second to see how high it really was in the sky. It was suspended in the air for the moment so Rick pulled the binos back up to his strained eyes. The Red-tailed seemed to be looking at him, with its head aimed directly down. Rick and the bird stared at one another for a while, sharing the moment of curiosity. Rick couldn’t keep his head angled for any longer so he dropped the binos back to his chest, bent his neck towards the ground and closed his eyes hard to give them a break. When he opened them back up and glanced to the sky, the hawk was gone.
Oh yea, I need to pee still.
He continued walking through the prairie. He heard a familiar sound, Field Sparrow (6), followed by another, Song Sparrow (7)... or was the first one the the Song Sparrow and the second was the Field? I’ll look it up later.
The trail wound up an incline in the prairie and then went back down towards the river. A strip of wooded edge was between the trail and the river. He looked around to see if there was anyone around.
Just the Robins (8) hopping around, time to dip into the woods.
Rick dipped under branches of Buckthorn and carefully moved Raspberry stalks out of the way as he stepped off the trail. Out of his periphery he noticed movement to his right. He stopped, concerned it was a person. Just beyond a monster of a bifurcated Sycamore was a Wild Turkey (9). Oh let me get a better look at this fellow.
Rick carefully backtracked to the trail; he moved past the the Sycamore and began to scan the area. Turkeys were breeding right now and Rick always enjoyed the courtship display of the male turkey. But the turkey was nowhere to be seen, somehow vanishing into thin air. Well... okay then. As he turned to move back to the trail, a fluttering caught his attention in a nearby shrub. He turned, remained still and stared. He realized there was not just one thing fluttering, there were several. Birds seemed to appear out of nowhere from inside of dense shrubs, zip to other shrubs, and bounce on the twigs before flying up to the highest reaches of the nearest tree. Rick tried to concentrate on one bird in his binoculars but they moved so quickly that by the time he found it, it was turning side to side and jumping to the next branch. When he tried to follow one bird as it flew to other shrubs it, he realized he was not looking at the same bird. Okay, there are multiple species here. If one of them would just stay still for a goddamn second... He locked in on one that had decided to hang out at eye level over the river. It was a small bird, with a gray drab color and light yellow on the body. White ring around the eye...black on the wings with a white bar across it. Just let me see the top of your head... Then as if on command the bird leaned forward as it faced Rick revealing a small red spot right on the top. Aha! RUBY CROWNED KINGLET! (10) Rick wanted to continue to watch the scampering of the Kinglet, but he knew there were other birds still jumping around. The next one he focused on was larger than the Kinglet and lean. The Blue-gray Gnatcatcher (11) raised its tail feathers and fanned them out, revealing deep black central feathers and pristine white feathers on the outside. Turning to its side, the bird had what Rick could only describe as a black unibrow contrasting sharply with the soft blue of the rest of the bird. This was a new species for Rick and he reminded himself to add it to his life list once he got home. He took a few more minutes to look at the other birds, but decided that they were all more Ruby-crowned Kinglets hopping merrily around the shrubs. Time to move on.
Rick pushed through the brush, startling a group of Grackles (12), and got back on the trail. Pulling the binoculars up to his eyes, he saw there were a few more people out on the trail. The bathroom would have to wait. Unfortunately, birding is slightly less enjoyable when the anticipation of having to pee is rushing you.
The trail wound up through the prairie; passing people, Rick gave an awkward nod in their direction. Noting the binoculars around his neck, one couple stopped to ask if he had seen anything. Unsure of what level of knowledge, if any, these folks has, Rick eased into what he’d seen starting with the Red-tailed, a sure fire way to get a non-birder excited. It did not disappoint. Next up he hit them with the Wild Turkey, which elicited a “WHAT!?” loud enough that it made Rick take a step backwards. They are definitely not birders. So Rick proceeded to tell them about the Big Day which piqued their interest. Afterwards, Rick and the couple parted ways with Rick feeling that someone was going to looking at binoculars online when they got home. Nikon really should give me some commission on that one.
The trail guided Rick out of the open prairie and into a moist woodland; Dutchman’s breaches carpeted the floor, with pockets of Trout Lilies just beginning to open up. A lone Red-bellied (13)woodpecker called out, shortly after a pair of Northern Flickers (14) called out to one another, one near Rick, the other on the far side of the forest. Rick paused and leaned up against the tree, he let his eyes just stare straight ahead. Sometimes it seemed that the best way to find birds in the forest was to not actively look, but to let the forest move around you. Within a minute his eyes began to pick up movement. From his spot against the tree he saw a Tufted Titmouse (15) rustling through a clump of Oak leaves hanging in the tree. Below the Titmouse, but on the same tree was a Brown Creeper (16), not new to Rick but always exciting as they are hard to find. The camouflage hides even their hopping up the tree trunk as they check the bark crevices for insects. Rustling on the ground revealed more Robins rummaging the forest floor like prison guards tossing an inmates cell. Another bird was doing the same and hopped up onto a log. Robin sized, but not a robin, brown body, white breast. A Thrush! But which one? The tail is a little more reddish brown than the body is... hmmm... Hermit Thrush (17)! This was another new bird for Rick, two lifers on the day and his total was up to 17 birds.
The trail in the forest went back down towards the river and this is when things heated up for Rick. He saw an Oriole (18) fly across the trail and he decided to follow it towards the river. He got to a clump of Dogwoods and it erupted in birds: Palm Warblers (19), Yellow Warblers (20), Blue-winged Warbler (22), Nashville Warbler (23). He had to move quickly from bird to bird, thank god I’ve been studying warblers. He was so close to his Big Day number, only a couple more... Another warbler flew into view with a yellow square on its butt, finally a Yellow-rumped (24). One more and Rick would have it, a new high for him...
Zee zee zee zee zo zee
Rick heard the song and turned his head upwards, aiming his binoculars at the tree it was coming from.
Zee zee zee zee zo zee
The song coming from a different tree now.
Zee zee zee zee zo zee
Rick found the tree and began scanning, his heart beating quicker as he tried to find it before it flew off.
Zee zee zee zee zo zee
There in the the Hop-hornbeam was the source of the call: the Black-throated Green Warbler. Rick’s 25th bird and his highest single day count yet. His excitement could not be reigned in as he dropped his binoculars and threw his fists in the air, trying his best to keep his own calls inside his mouth so as to not scare the bird. As Rick calmed down, a horrifying realization occurred. It seemed that in Rick’s excitement, the 30 year old had in fact, pissed his pants.
Rick beelined in the direction of his car, please for the love of god, I hope no one sees me. The darkened area of his light blue jeans appeared like a spreading oil spill with no way of containment in sight. Rick was now on a trail, there was no better way to get to his car and from a distance he saw that couple he had told about the Turkey. Why are they stil here?? Unfortunately for Rick, his telling of the Big Day was enough to to keep these folks around and looking for birds. They turned and saw him rapidly approaching and began waving while their eyes simultaneously turned downward to the odd coloration of his otherwise light colored jeans, their faces beginning to wrinkle with confusion.
Rick walked quickly by them and just blurted out, “Big Day!”
Well, never mind on that Nikon commission. I don’t think they’ll be birding anytime soon.
Afterword
This fictional story is a inspired by the book Tales of a Low Rent Birder by Pete Dunne. After reading his collection of short stories and other authors’ birding books, I wanted to try something different. Like any work of fiction, there is some truth in this story. No I have never pissed myself while out birding or herping, but it does seem to never fail that I have to pee the second I get to the site I’m going to and more often than not there is not an actual bathroom around. One day at a site in SE Michigan I had to pee like crazy, but I was first distracted by Turkey Vultures and then a Red-tailed hawk who really did seem curious in what I was. Lastly I was in fact startled by a Turkey near a stunner of a Sycamore while I was about to relieve myself. I hope that you enjoyed this story and will look out for other fictional tales in the future.
He came out of the riparian zone and into an open prairie, A large bird glided through the sky, Rick pulled his binoculars up despite already knowing what it was. The Turkey Vulture (4) rode the thermal currents round and around without flapping its wings for a second. Bringing the binoculars back down to their resting position, his eyes adjusted to the sky and saw more large birds in the same thermal current as the Turkey Vulture. Two more vultures and... something else, he thought to himself, binoculars back to active position. A hawk! But what kind...?
While always being appreciative of hawks, Rick’s ID abilities were quite limited when it came to this group. Everything always just looked like a Red-tailed Hawk to him. Only until recently had he began to understand that since he was a child, many of the hawks he thought as Red-tailed could have been a Cooper’s, a Sharp-shinned, a Broad-winged, a Rough-legged, a Red-shouldered or even a Harrier. Even within the Red-tailed species there were a few varieties: the borealis, the abieticola, the calculus/alascensis, the Harlan’s. All this time he had been living in the dark when it came to hawks, who knew?
The hawk was mostly white underneath with a vaguel speckled line of brown across the chest and a reddish tail, Red-tailed (5). Okay that wasn’t too hard. His ID confidence growing each time he saw something he was positive on. He watched the hawk glide through the air, the only thing moving was its head and tail; which looked like it was being pulled one way or the other by marionette strings. Following the bird, Rick soon realized it was directly above of where he was. He pulled the binoculars down from his eyes for a second to see how high it really was in the sky. It was suspended in the air for the moment so Rick pulled the binos back up to his strained eyes. The Red-tailed seemed to be looking at him, with its head aimed directly down. Rick and the bird stared at one another for a while, sharing the moment of curiosity. Rick couldn’t keep his head angled for any longer so he dropped the binos back to his chest, bent his neck towards the ground and closed his eyes hard to give them a break. When he opened them back up and glanced to the sky, the hawk was gone.
Oh yea, I need to pee still.
He continued walking through the prairie. He heard a familiar sound, Field Sparrow (6), followed by another, Song Sparrow (7)... or was the first one the the Song Sparrow and the second was the Field? I’ll look it up later.
The trail wound up an incline in the prairie and then went back down towards the river. A strip of wooded edge was between the trail and the river. He looked around to see if there was anyone around.
Just the Robins (8) hopping around, time to dip into the woods.
Rick dipped under branches of Buckthorn and carefully moved Raspberry stalks out of the way as he stepped off the trail. Out of his periphery he noticed movement to his right. He stopped, concerned it was a person. Just beyond a monster of a bifurcated Sycamore was a Wild Turkey (9). Oh let me get a better look at this fellow.
Rick carefully backtracked to the trail; he moved past the the Sycamore and began to scan the area. Turkeys were breeding right now and Rick always enjoyed the courtship display of the male turkey. But the turkey was nowhere to be seen, somehow vanishing into thin air. Well... okay then. As he turned to move back to the trail, a fluttering caught his attention in a nearby shrub. He turned, remained still and stared. He realized there was not just one thing fluttering, there were several. Birds seemed to appear out of nowhere from inside of dense shrubs, zip to other shrubs, and bounce on the twigs before flying up to the highest reaches of the nearest tree. Rick tried to concentrate on one bird in his binoculars but they moved so quickly that by the time he found it, it was turning side to side and jumping to the next branch. When he tried to follow one bird as it flew to other shrubs it, he realized he was not looking at the same bird. Okay, there are multiple species here. If one of them would just stay still for a goddamn second... He locked in on one that had decided to hang out at eye level over the river. It was a small bird, with a gray drab color and light yellow on the body. White ring around the eye...black on the wings with a white bar across it. Just let me see the top of your head... Then as if on command the bird leaned forward as it faced Rick revealing a small red spot right on the top. Aha! RUBY CROWNED KINGLET! (10) Rick wanted to continue to watch the scampering of the Kinglet, but he knew there were other birds still jumping around. The next one he focused on was larger than the Kinglet and lean. The Blue-gray Gnatcatcher (11) raised its tail feathers and fanned them out, revealing deep black central feathers and pristine white feathers on the outside. Turning to its side, the bird had what Rick could only describe as a black unibrow contrasting sharply with the soft blue of the rest of the bird. This was a new species for Rick and he reminded himself to add it to his life list once he got home. He took a few more minutes to look at the other birds, but decided that they were all more Ruby-crowned Kinglets hopping merrily around the shrubs. Time to move on.
Rick pushed through the brush, startling a group of Grackles (12), and got back on the trail. Pulling the binoculars up to his eyes, he saw there were a few more people out on the trail. The bathroom would have to wait. Unfortunately, birding is slightly less enjoyable when the anticipation of having to pee is rushing you.
The trail wound up through the prairie; passing people, Rick gave an awkward nod in their direction. Noting the binoculars around his neck, one couple stopped to ask if he had seen anything. Unsure of what level of knowledge, if any, these folks has, Rick eased into what he’d seen starting with the Red-tailed, a sure fire way to get a non-birder excited. It did not disappoint. Next up he hit them with the Wild Turkey, which elicited a “WHAT!?” loud enough that it made Rick take a step backwards. They are definitely not birders. So Rick proceeded to tell them about the Big Day which piqued their interest. Afterwards, Rick and the couple parted ways with Rick feeling that someone was going to looking at binoculars online when they got home. Nikon really should give me some commission on that one.
The trail guided Rick out of the open prairie and into a moist woodland; Dutchman’s breaches carpeted the floor, with pockets of Trout Lilies just beginning to open up. A lone Red-bellied (13)woodpecker called out, shortly after a pair of Northern Flickers (14) called out to one another, one near Rick, the other on the far side of the forest. Rick paused and leaned up against the tree, he let his eyes just stare straight ahead. Sometimes it seemed that the best way to find birds in the forest was to not actively look, but to let the forest move around you. Within a minute his eyes began to pick up movement. From his spot against the tree he saw a Tufted Titmouse (15) rustling through a clump of Oak leaves hanging in the tree. Below the Titmouse, but on the same tree was a Brown Creeper (16), not new to Rick but always exciting as they are hard to find. The camouflage hides even their hopping up the tree trunk as they check the bark crevices for insects. Rustling on the ground revealed more Robins rummaging the forest floor like prison guards tossing an inmates cell. Another bird was doing the same and hopped up onto a log. Robin sized, but not a robin, brown body, white breast. A Thrush! But which one? The tail is a little more reddish brown than the body is... hmmm... Hermit Thrush (17)! This was another new bird for Rick, two lifers on the day and his total was up to 17 birds.
The trail in the forest went back down towards the river and this is when things heated up for Rick. He saw an Oriole (18) fly across the trail and he decided to follow it towards the river. He got to a clump of Dogwoods and it erupted in birds: Palm Warblers (19), Yellow Warblers (20), Blue-winged Warbler (22), Nashville Warbler (23). He had to move quickly from bird to bird, thank god I’ve been studying warblers. He was so close to his Big Day number, only a couple more... Another warbler flew into view with a yellow square on its butt, finally a Yellow-rumped (24). One more and Rick would have it, a new high for him...
Zee zee zee zee zo zee
Rick heard the song and turned his head upwards, aiming his binoculars at the tree it was coming from.
Zee zee zee zee zo zee
The song coming from a different tree now.
Zee zee zee zee zo zee
Rick found the tree and began scanning, his heart beating quicker as he tried to find it before it flew off.
Zee zee zee zee zo zee
There in the the Hop-hornbeam was the source of the call: the Black-throated Green Warbler. Rick’s 25th bird and his highest single day count yet. His excitement could not be reigned in as he dropped his binoculars and threw his fists in the air, trying his best to keep his own calls inside his mouth so as to not scare the bird. As Rick calmed down, a horrifying realization occurred. It seemed that in Rick’s excitement, the 30 year old had in fact, pissed his pants.
Rick beelined in the direction of his car, please for the love of god, I hope no one sees me. The darkened area of his light blue jeans appeared like a spreading oil spill with no way of containment in sight. Rick was now on a trail, there was no better way to get to his car and from a distance he saw that couple he had told about the Turkey. Why are they stil here?? Unfortunately for Rick, his telling of the Big Day was enough to to keep these folks around and looking for birds. They turned and saw him rapidly approaching and began waving while their eyes simultaneously turned downward to the odd coloration of his otherwise light colored jeans, their faces beginning to wrinkle with confusion.
Rick walked quickly by them and just blurted out, “Big Day!”
Well, never mind on that Nikon commission. I don’t think they’ll be birding anytime soon.
Afterword
This fictional story is a inspired by the book Tales of a Low Rent Birder by Pete Dunne. After reading his collection of short stories and other authors’ birding books, I wanted to try something different. Like any work of fiction, there is some truth in this story. No I have never pissed myself while out birding or herping, but it does seem to never fail that I have to pee the second I get to the site I’m going to and more often than not there is not an actual bathroom around. One day at a site in SE Michigan I had to pee like crazy, but I was first distracted by Turkey Vultures and then a Red-tailed hawk who really did seem curious in what I was. Lastly I was in fact startled by a Turkey near a stunner of a Sycamore while I was about to relieve myself. I hope that you enjoyed this story and will look out for other fictional tales in the future.
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