The last time

I’d thought that Wednesday would be my last time birding, but I was wrong. Bolt informed us that he would be going on Friday morning. Michaela decided to come along too. She said she had been wanting to see what it was like.

We met at 6:30 and headed to Bolt’s Buick for the last time. We drove slowly on the Hut Horton road. Dickcissels had arrived. Apparently their name comes from their song, but I don’t think it sounds like they are saying “dickcissel” at all. Several perched on branches near the roadside, and we stopped the car to get a close look.

Finally, I got to see one … actually, four. They were worth the wait. The first Painted Bunting was on the road. Although I couldn’t see the brilliancy of the color, I was still awed. The next one was especially visible. It perched on a branch, and we were able to see each distinct color.

A flock of kingbirds flew overhead. I really like those birds. A Phoebe flew around the cemetery, and Barn Swallows circled overhead.

Next, we went to my favorite place: the iron bridge road. The road hadn’t yet disappointed, and today was no exception. We saw a Chat and plenty of Summer Tanagers. Several White-crowned Sparrows hopped along the road in front of us. A White-eyed Vireo sang, its song punctuated with exclamation marks, and we saw several Pine Warblers.

All too soon, it was time to turn around. On the walk back to the car, I stole frequent glances behind me. A bit like Lot’s wife, perhaps. I’m going to miss the iron bridge road. I hope we get to come back someday.