A bell-like trill

Friday afternoon: clouds near Caledon

Another photo is posted in weather_pics.


Every year I participate in the North American Breeding Bird Survey. I wake up before dawn one morning in late June and drive 40 kilometres through cottage country, making frequent stops to identify every bird I can see or hear. Most counting is done by ear, so I have to recognize every song I'm likely to encounter. Some are unforgettable, like the weird call of an American bittern, but others require an annual refresher. Yesterday afternoon was spent downloading sound files for a reference disc.

Some vocalizations are harder to distinguish. I'm perplexed by the bell-like trills of the chipping sparrow, pine warbler and dark-eyed junco. Sometimes circumstances are a giveaway. Along the Eramosa River in winter, it could only be a junco.

Starting my route at 4:54 a.m. at the gas station in Dwight surrounded by statuesque white pines with the air full of overlapping trills, I'm almost certain they're pine warblers. But in the dawn light I can't fix my binoculars on a single bird. Every year I promise myself I'll go there a day ahead, with the luxury of standing for an hour until one singer shows his head and solves the problem once and for all.

[Extra] Brenna's dream

Earlier this evening Marian phoned to wish me a happy Father's Day. When we were done, I asked her to put Brenna on the line. I hadn't talked to her in over a month.

My parents had taken the girls to the cottage on Victoria Day weekend. Mom told me later that Bren mentioned out of the blue that she wanted to go to Prince Edward Island someday. Mom, not knowing whether Bren had heard about our summer plans yet, refrained from spilling the beans.

So I asked Bren whether anyone had told her where we're going camping this summer. No, she said.

I broke the news: "Nova Scotia, PEI, New Brunswick. We'll stop in Montreal for a couple days."

"That is so cool," she said, but her voice was hesitant, incredulous. She guards herself against disappointment. She asked, "Have you discussed this with Mom yet?"

"Yes," I said. "We've already worked out the dates."

Her skepticism began to subside.

"That is so cool!"

I mentioned the conversation she had had with my mother, and asked whether there was anything she particularly wanted to see on PEI.

"Not really, it just sounds neat," she said, then added, "I want to see the provincial dirt."

PEI is famous for its red soil, and no kidding, that is the sort of thing Brenna would make a pilgrimage to see.

It's like an angel sighing

Here is a cool tool for searching blogs: IceRocket. You can even get an RSS feed for search results. I've started using an RSS feed for a search on my LJ username. It's a good way to ensure I don't miss any posts directed at me, albeit a day or two late.

When you write my name, it's like a little prayer.