Brad Marks – Page 7 – Wildlife Intrigued

Tall Trees and a Bright Flash…by Brad Marks

I need a word with the individual who turned off the heat in Arizona – we are NOT amused. We expect to get snow at home (and they ARE), but Ron and I have already birded in a snow shower down here and now 12 days into our migration, yet to wear a T-shirt much less a pair of shorts. The bright spot is we are getting looks at some good birds. Ron is at 106, I am at 100 species in the young year, which includes 6 lifers for me and 12 for my brother. That is plenty of great fodder for future posts. Meanwhile, Brad is going to take over while we get ready to move to our next basecamp (please be warmer, please be warmer!!). Take care everyone and for those stuck back at Intrigued HQ…throw and extra log on the fire (high is looking like 2 degrees (F) BELOW zero next week).

Take it away Brad…

It is Day One of our Southwest National Park Tour. Jan and I flew into Las Vegas and rented a car to drive to SoCal to experience a few National Parks. After all, we have the National Parks Annual Pass and want to wring every cent out of it. Truthfully, there isn’t much to see between Las Vegas and where we stayed in Fresno, CA. Unless you like desert scenes, Joshua trees, and gigantic citrus orchards as far as the eye can see. Anyone ever enjoyed Cuties or Halos? They are called mandarin oranges, or clementines, depending on where you live. The orchards where they are grown, and the “factory” that packages them, went on for miles. While those are enjoyable, for a few miles, we travelled to see mountains and trees and wildlife.

After a restful night, Jan and I drove to see Kings Canyon National Park at nearly first light. I was prepared for some very twisty-turny roads on the way to the park, and I wasn’t disappointed. However, the entrance was near the beginning of the curvy roads so I didn’t have to endure very many switchbacks. We arrived at Kings Canyon very early. How early was it? (remember the show Match Game from the 1970’s?) It was so early, the ranger stations at the entrance weren’t staffed yet. I still flashed our National Parks Annual Pass just in case there was a camera inside checking out cars and license plates on the way in. Kings Canyon is known for, well, a canyon. A very nice canyon to be sure. It is also known for some of the largest trees (by volume) in the world, the Giant Sequoia. Coastal Redwoods are certainly taller, by almost 100 feet, but are spindly in comparison to the Giant Sequoia trees.

On our way to see the General Grant Tree (268 feet tall), something caught our eye. As Jan and I wandered down the trail to see the General, there was a brilliant flash of yellow in the undergrowth. Keep in mind, we are just outside the parking lot where Giant Sequoia “seedlings” were towering over us (see Notes below). I had a hard time wrapping my mind around something so large when I’m used to oak or maple trees topping out at 50-75 feet tall after a hundred years or more; a Giant Sequoia is just getting started at that age. I also realized that by days end my neck would be stuck in the “looking straight up” position. Or normally what happens to me when we fly discounted seats and the headrest only hits the middle of my neck.

There was the flash again, hiding in a bunch of brambles near the base of a Sequoia, the tree not an SUV of the same name. Jan had the medium length zoom on her camera while I only had the short range zoom in hopes of being able to capture an entire tree in one photo. My camera setup was useless for something so small. Jan started snapping away and was able to capture the bright yellow flash.

Hit the jump to reveal the source of the bright yellow flash!

Chickadees Three…by Brad Marks

January is the time when the word Midwest becomes Latin for “find your mittens”. Lucky for us, some Mesopotamian genius in the 4th millennium solved this problem by strategically placing a sturdy stick between two cylindrical objects and soon after, “Snowbirds” was being etched on cave walls. Of course, now we have fancy glamping portable homes sitting on those rolling contraptions making this human migration far more pleasant. Pleasant being a relative word as our annual trek hasn’t exactly gone as planned. We go south to shed the layers of clothing, this year we are adding them thanks to a band of frigid air riding shotgun to Arizona – and now we might be greeted with the fluffy white crap looming near week’s end. Damn you Mr. Snow Miser (link here)! While we get this setback sorted out, Brad is going to jump in and bring us his first post of the new year. Let’s hope he found his mittens.

Welcome to 2024 Brad, take it away…

As birders all know, the little birds are the hardest to catch successfully. They blend into the trees. Little birds tend to be spastic. But they have some great calls and fantastic colors. Little birds are also very rewarding if you are able to capture photographs of them sitting still for a millisecond, or 1/1000^th of a second for those thinking in photographic terms.

Todays’ three subjects have similar calls, but they are different enough to get your attention and all come from different parts of the country

Black-capped Chickadees (Poecile atricapillus) have a three- or four-toned call with different notes. The three-note call (Chick-a-dee) has the first note being the highest, the second a fifth lower and the third up a half-tone from the first (sounds like the last three notes from Close Encounters). Their four-note call (Chick-a-dee-dee) is a series of two notes repeated, but about a half octave apart. Most of the Black-caps near us use the three-note version, and this one from our back yard in central Illinois is no exception. This is the first bird call our daughter Allyson learned to recognize and tried to imitate when she was about four years old.

Hit the jump to learn more about the Black-capped’s kinfolk.

The Intrigued Family Wishes You a Very Merry Christmas

Everyone here in the Intrigued family would like to extend a hearty Merry Christmas to each and all! We have had a wonderful year here and that is entirely due to all our wonderful readers.

Hit the jump for some more merry good cheer!

Western Meadowlark…by Brad Marks

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.

Western Meadowlark found at the Badlands by Brad Marks

Hit the jump to read more about this little yellow fellow!

Panorama Point…by Brad Marks

Shockingly December is ticking off faster than the previous month. In this case, it is a good thing since it puts us closer to warmer weather – Linda and I head south soon after jolly St. Nick squeezes down our chimney. It is getting a bit stressful as another Average Year effort (link here) is also coming to a close. Currently sitting at 337 and Ron has added two since I updated the stats putting him at 299 – just one under our pre-kickoff 300 species goal. You may recall, we both missed it by a feather last year (link here). Carrying on the sub-species theme from my last post, Brad is going to bring us another adventure from his Colorado trip. Unfortunately Brad, no extra partial count credit for sub-species ha.

Take it away Brad…

I’m one that always like to take a new road to see where it goes. However, I’m not always successful and sometimes have to do a fair bit of backtracking. Jan and I had just returned from a whirlwind tour to Devils Tower, the Badlands, Mount Rushmore, and Wind Cave (see here). The kids had to work that Monday morning. Jan and I had the entire day to explore the Front Range of the Rockies near Denver. I know, I know, a very big task for only a day.

This is really part two of a trip to Golden Gate Canyon State Park (GGCSP) in Colorado. We had succeeded in getting to the park before many other visitors. In fact, thus far we had seen ZERO other visitors. After leaving the Mountain Bluebirds behind (link here), I found a wandering, spaghetti-like curved road.

Red-Backed Dark-Eyed Junco by Brad Marks

Hit the jump to learn about what was “eyed” at the end of this Colorado adventure.

Blue Flash…by Brad Marks

Welcome to December everyone! A little less than a month and we’ll be tearing up checks accidentally written out with a ‘2023’ date. Note, as I do not handle the day to day billing, I have to admit I do not even know if the concept of writing a “physical” check still exists. The sand is definitely a blur as it moves through the hourglass and I still have a lot to get done before heading to warmer temps in the south. One of those pressing to-dos is to get converted over to a new computer. My current workhouse was growing long in the tooth. New versions of Lightroom and Photoshop were strangling every last CPU cycle, the Halloween prop related software was starting to complain about old drivers and maybe not related, but the WordPress issues over the last couple of months has been infuriating. The new behemoth has arrived and is a wonder to behold – the lights dim in the house and the local power company has to switch to auxiliary power on ignition (i9 24 core with a graphics card that cost more than my first car). Now the “mountain” of work to migrate all the system configurations, apps, preferences and data. While I’m out of commission bit fiddling, Brad is going to bring you another one of his adventures – this time from the state of “Nil sine Numine”.

Take it away Brad…

One day in late April, Jan and I were in Colorado with a bit of free time on our hands. We had just returned from the whirlwind tour to Devils Tower, the Badlands, Mount Rushmore, and Wind Cave (see here). The kids were at work and we had an entire day to explore the mountains outside Denver. I know, I can hear it through the screen, “There are too many mountains to see in just one day.” We weren’t trying to see all of them. Our selection was sort of a virtual dart throw at “stuff” that was close to Denver.

After finishing breakfast at the hotel, Jan and I started driving early. We wanted to enjoy Golden Gate Canyon State Park (GGCSP) without many visitors. The road from Golden, CO to the park was paved, but it was by no means straight. To call it “curvy” might be an understatement. This first road sign might be an indication of what to expect on the way to the park.

I mean, it’s not even in a straight line — it goes sideways! You’d think drivers would exercise caution on a road like that. But NO! We were passed by more than a few vehicles on the way up the mountain, even a “school bus” passed us at one point. By the time we reached the Visitor Center, I really needed to get out of the car to stop the constant motion for a few minutes. I can still get motion sick, even when I’m driving, on these very curvy roads. Think Spirograph on steroids. (Kids go ask your parents what a Spirograph is.)

Hit the jump to find out what lies ahead on Spirograph road.

Just Hanging Around…by Brad Marks

We are now in a do not pass Go, do not collect $2000 straight line to Christmas. We made it through the day we give thanks for what we “have”, quickly followed by the US tradition of stomping/clawing/punching/gouging/insulting and other equally rude behavior to get all the things we “don’t have”. The irony in the juxtaposition speaks volumes for our society. Luckily, we checked out of that scene many years ago. It is time to haul out the red and green decor and have the annual discussion with the boys that Santa “is” allowed to come down our chimney that one night of the year – excessive barking could result in a stocking full of coal. Note, last year Ruger responded with “Screw it, that fat sooty ass is mine!” (now that is a cocky puppy who knows what list he’s already on ha). Ruger has been (slightly) better this year so we’ll see how he reacts to the home intrusion. He does give a perfect lead in to today’s post from Brad. Continuing the game bird theme, here’s another one of his intriguing adventures.

Take it away Brad…

One thing I didn’t expect to be doing was standing in line at a National Park to experience the scenery. But that’s just what happened at one area of Yosemite. While Jan and I were waiting for our turn to get a photo of Yosemite Falls without a million tourists in our way (not much of an exaggeration on a late summer Saturday), we began chatting with the family next to us. They had been in the park for a few days and were heading out the next day. The gentleman said since we were just starting our visit, we must make sure to head to Glacier Point before leaving the park. Often times advice is worth just what you pay for it. However, this advice turned out to be pure gold. He also said to make sure we were there before sunset for the best view.

Late one afternoon, later into our visit we began the drive to Glacier Point overlooking Yosemite Valley. Jan and I, OK really just me, didn’t anticipate the number of cars also heading the same direction. We were in a minor traffic jam inside the park. Luckily for us, most of the cars were shooting right past the turnoff for Glacier Point. I felt glad to be free of the taillights in front of us. But my shoulders slumped a bit when I saw a sign for “only” 16 more miles of twisty roads. The first mile was all switchbacks, but from mile two to the summit was a smooth ribbon of newly paved asphalt with gentle curves. Jan and I arrived at the summit with time to spare before sunset.

I parked the rental car in one of the few spaces I could find near summit. The elevation was over 7,200 feet for those keeping score at home. Jan and I began the quick walk to the point to see Yosemite Valley from a completely different perspective. A few feet into the journey, there was a group of people looking over a fence into some low scrub brushes. That usually means there’s something worth taking a peek at.

Hit the jump to read about the fruits of the peek!

NAWWS (Not Another White Wading Shorebird)…by Brad Marks

I do not want to put a big ol’ sour rant before Brad’s post, so I am just going to quickly mention that I am having boatloads of WordPress issues as of late. Not so much on the posting side, rather on the commenting side – particularly commenting on other people’s posts. It’s a crap shoot if it works and for the life of me I am unable to figure it out. This is especially infuriating for a career IT person who earned his early retirement exorcising ghosts in the machine. I’ll update later, but for now, accept my apologies if it appears like I have been ignoring your posts. Where my eyes happen to be blood red, today’s feature has a much more calming and pleasing color. Enjoy another of Brad’s adventures while I round up a Goat for some yoga therapy.

Take it away Brad…

I know, I know. I can hear it now. Not another white wading shorebird. OK. It’s not. I don’t think I’ve ever seen today’s featured feathered friend wading. Not that they don’t wade in very shallow water from time to time. It’s just . . . I’ve never seen them wading. Or swimming. Or diving. Actually, I’ve never seen them doing much of anything except watching the world go by (see Notes). Plenty of sites show them to be very active. I usually see them sitting on a post; or on a rock in the water somewhere. Or at their most vigorous, casually paddling around on the edge of the Mississippi River. In fitting with the theme of recently published stories, our guest today is not a wading shorebird. Nor is it white. It is nearly black, except for piercing emerald green eyes.

Have you guessed our featured feathered friend today?

Hit the jump to reveal the latest “emerald” gem from South Carolina.

Cotton Balls on Stilts…by Brad Marks

Greetings everyone! Linda and finally made it back from Rochester, MN. We were up there for Linda’s annual heart checkup and I am pleased to report everything looks excellent. Linda has a bit of PTSD on these visits from all that has been through up there, but she pulled through like a champ. We even celebrated by going to our favorite restaurant, Canadian Honker – DELICIOUS. Think I have mentioned this before, but there are two things that always strike me about the Mayo campus. First is the perfect entropy that plays out in their waiting room. It happens in every medical waiting room since Covid, it’s just on a larger scale there. By entropy, I am referring to the fact patients will always pick the set of chairs that maximizes their distance from anyone else. I enjoy watching the visible thought process as the options narrow ha. The other intriguing element is everyone walking around with cotton balls on their arms. Pretty sure 95% of the patients with visits that day have to start out with a phlebotomist. Just thinking about all those pokes makes me want to faint. Luckily Brad is back with a much happier story about fluffy balls to help put my mind at ease.

Take it away Brad…

Have you ever been digging through some stuff piled on your desk or the kitchen counter and found something you thought you already took care of? Well, that’s this story. I started writing just after Jan and I were in South Carolina this past February. We were (OK, I was) overwhelmed with the embarrassment of riches of birds to photograph and write about. I think I mentioned in an earlier story that we took well north of 11,000 photos over the course of three days. Our primary reason for being in the area was not birding or photography. We had really been trying to leave snowy February in Illinois behind for a week. We also wanted to visit a State Park or two to be out in Nature without a parka. It just so happened that the birding was rather spectacular, “forcing” us to fill up memory cards along the way. I guess that’s what two backup SSD drives are for.

At first, I treated every white wading bird the same as I was trying to identify them. I learned that some white wading birds are supposed to be blue, not white. I also learned that all of the medium-sized white wading birds aren’t all the same bird. I guess you need to pay attention to their feet, legs, and bills to know for sure.

Hit the jump to learn more about the “fluffy factor”!

Slow and Steady…by Brad Marks

The Halloween season has come to a close which brings with it a mixture of sadness and relief. We hate to see it end, but it also feels like the steam has finally been released from the pressure cooker. Yesterday (the 1st) was “Spirit Day” as we have come to call it. The night before the haunters were nestled all snug in their beds while visions of ghouls and monsters danced in their heads. Away to the local Spirit “popup” Halloween store we flew like a flash for what to our wondering eyes should appear but an entire store at 50% off. A bundle of props we flung on our backs. We were heard to exclaim as we drove out of sight, we can’t wait until the next haunt night! Actually, there is a little pressure still left in the cooker as I have to find places to store all the new stuff – eh, worry about that another day ha. In addition to celebrating another successful haunting season I also managed to reach an annual running goal. In all the Halloween chaos and injury setbacks, I managed to still hit my 1200 mile annual running goal – 60 days early!

I mainly bring this up as a lead in to let you know Brad will be taking the helm to give me a badly needed rest and because his post happens to be about another trail “speed demon”.

Take it away Brad (and Jan)…

Let me set the stage here for you.

It’s late September. Jan and I are in a National Park in southern Nevada just outside Las Vegas. We are in the desert with Red Rock all around. That’s right, it’s Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, about 20 minutes outside of Las Vegas. The temperature is in the upper 80’s or low 90’s at 4pm. Yes, we remembered to bring water with us.

We flashed our Annual Park Pass (surely you all have one of these beauties by now) at the entrance gate and started on the 13-mile scenic drive to see what we could see. One of the first things we saw surprised us a little bit.

It was a “Tortoise Crossing” sign. I figured the chances of seeing a Desert Tortoise were just as high as our seeing a Bighorn Sheep in Arches National Park (still haven’t seen one there, despite the myriad of road signs). Although the Elk Crossing signs near Estes Park, CO are very accurate.

About four miles into the scenic drive, we came upon a white sedan with its doors open and flashers on, taking up the right side of the road. We crept past and parked to see if they needed any help. Two young men (college age I’m guessing) were kneeling in front of the car. I suspected car trouble.

Imagine the surprise when Jan and I got out of our car to find out what they were doing.

Hit the jump to find out what the surprise was!

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