We are nearly to Christmas, the stores are bustling, the roads are jamming and the last minute shoppers are starting to panic. It also means we’ll soon be shutting down Intrigued headquarters so our staff can spend time with their family and friends. Brad is going take us along on another one of his birding adventures today, our traditional Christmas Day post and then we will probably call it a year to enjoy the festivities and play with all our new toys. Maybe another one while Linda and I are migrating south, but we’ll play that by ear. Before Brad takes it away, wanted to extend congratulations to my brother Ron who reached the 300 unique species annual goal today towards our Average Year (link here). He scored a +1 lifer to put the proverbial cherry on top – if you recall last year, we both fell short of the goal (link here). Quite fitting as today’s post features a +1 for Brad as well!
Now you can take it away Brad…
When we left Hill City, SD it was relatively early morning for the kids, but mid-morning for Jan and I. By mid-afternoon, we had already been to two National Parks (Black Hills and Devils Tower) in the same day mind you. Why not try for a third? By the time we arrived at The Badlands, we had already travelled 300 miles that Saturday morning. After we flashed our National Parks Annual Pass at the gate, we followed the winding path to the depths of the park. Gotta love the Annual Park Pass! What, you don’t have one? Go get one right now . . . go ahead . . . you can catch up on the story in a minute. (No, Wildlife Intrigued doesn’t receive any commission from Annual Park Pass referrals. But hey, maybe that’s something productive our Legal department can work on.)
Just outside the car on the right-hand side was a small group of Bighorn Sheep, lounging and munching on the sparse early season grass. I slowed down to take a look since we rarely see them in the parks. But after rolling down the windows, the soundtrack I was hearing didn’t fit the scene. There was this solitary sweet song coming from across the road. At first, all I could see was dried prairie grass and reddish-brown dirt. But then something bright yellow moved in the grass. This little fellow was singing its heart out. As far as I could tell, no one else was around to appreciate the song: birds or humans. It was singing for the joy of singing.
Hit the jump to read more about this little yellow fellow!
Continue reading Western Meadowlark…by Brad Marks
Wildlife Intrigued 