Journal of a Sabbatical

November 10, 1999

the elusive red crossbill

Adopt these Cats

Merrimack River Feline Rescue Society

Today's Bird List:
Plum Island
36 snow buntings
1 northern harrier
1 northern mockingbird
2 American crows
1 black capped chickadee
hordes of black ducks
hordes of Canada geese

Salisbury Beach
120 snow buntings
2 great black backed gulls
1 northern mockingbird
2 mourning doves
2 red crossbills
46 ring billed gulls

Today's Reading: Born Naked by Farley Mowat, New England Natives by Sheila Connor

OK, you try to photograph a white cat against a shiny white background. :-)

Newburyport is a long way from Newport. The cats are much cuddlier than the Corps of Engineers. But I am wicked tired. I didn't know you could get jet lag from driving. :-)

First, I stopped off at home to commune with the demented orange wacko who shares my life, and to pick up the digital camera so I could do this week's kitty pics. The demented one was so happy to see me that he attached himself to my right arm, leaving little claw marks when I finally got him off of me. Poor Wilbur. I really wasn't gone that long!

My coffee was gone by the time I passed the first Attleboro exit on I-95 so I didn't have any, hot or cold, to share with Chloe this morning. She took a swipe at me too. But in general she's been a lot nicer these days.

Roy arrived before me and had already started some of the dishes. In fact, Bonnie thought I was already there and locked the door. I had to ring the bell a couple of times to get in. Kendra was under the impression I was already there too. Must be that Dunkin Donuts zone effect again. Giggle Girl was inexplicably absent and had Kendra worried. Turned out she was having some problems and nobody thought to let us know she wasn't coming to work.

Jaguar is all clean and pretty from a grooming session. He had a three day vacation at Dawna's house and came back refreshed. He even posted vacation pictures on the bulletin board with captions ("My vacation by Jaguar"). He must've had some human help with that.

Shanti ventured out of her cage, a once rare but increasingly common occurrence. She snorts like a pig when she's upset. It's the funniest noise I've ever heard come out of a cat. She's got a very big head in comparison to the rest of her body and she looks kind of pugnacious even when she's not being unfriendly.

Kendra has installed a light over the sink. Now I can see how dirty the litter boxes really are. I hate it when the residue from the label refuses to come off the end of the litter box and all manner of dirt sticks to it. I really have to scrub to get it clean. I keep forgetting to bring some Goo Gone or something to get the label glue off so I don't keep on having to scrub off glued on bits of icky stuff.

By the time I was done with litter boxes, dishes, and cat photos I was starving. Apparently eating breakfast at 7:00 instead of 8:30 makes a big difference in how hungry I am at 12:15. Fortunately, the kid making the sandwiches at Angelina's saw me waiting in line and had my usual veggie sub made by the time I placed my order. There are benefits to being in a lunch rut.

After lunch I got the biggest size darkest roast coffee at Fowle's and sat on a bench in Market Square watching a little boy chase pigeons. It was close to 70 degrees, balmy and very un-November-like. The pigeons would run faster and faster until the kid got really close and then they'd fly away. After awhile the whole flock took off at once and flew to the top of a block of stores. The boy looked all around for more pigeons with this look of total disappointment on his face. Finally he spotted one lone pigeon way across the plaza almost in the street. His face lit up. He ran toward it. His mother ran after him to keep him from running into the street. Quite the chase scene.

Despite the balmy temperatures, the sky was quite overcast - a thick white that made the sunlight dim and diffuse. Not a good day for photography and not a particularly good day for looking for birds, but I'd heard reports of a short-eared owl and a northern shrike so I figured I'd give it a try. I encountered many many snow buntings and more Canada geese than you can possibly imagine, but nothing really exciting or new.

While I was in the restroom at Hellcat, I overheard somebody talking about a flock of red crossbills they'd just seen and somebody else answering that they'd seen some white-winged crossbills at Salisbury Beach. By the time I got out of the restroom, the red crossbill people were gone. As I was walking back to my car I heard a woman asking some guy who looked to be her father or some ancient mariner with binoculars instead of an albatross around his neck, if he'd seen the flock of red crossbills that just flew out of "those pines over there". She pointed to the small stand of trees next to the Hellcat parking lot. He croaked something about "not those pines, THE Pines" a couple of times before the woman realized they'd been talking about The Pines Trail. I already had my seat belt fastened and the engine running ...

I took a leisurely walk at The Pines Trail feeling the balmy air and listening to black ducks quacking, crows mobbing a northern harrier, and a lone chickadee holding forth. I lay down on a bench under a pitch pine and stared up into the trees dreamily listening and watching for any sign of crossbills. None appeared. The northern harrier finally got the message and left the crows' territory. A patch of hazy blue sky appeared and I somehow believed it would clear up. After awhile I was afraid I would fall asleep there and spend the night on the refuge - with colder temperatures and maybe some snow forecast for tonight that would be a bad idea.

It's not like me to leave without a walk on the beach, but I did. Salisbury Beach beckoned with its report of white-winged crossbills and a short-eared owl. An immense flock of snow buntings was hanging around the entrance to the campground. They'd rise up and fly about 2 feet, then land en masse again. I was watching them so attentively that I didn't notice I was suddenly blocking traffic. An impatient elderly couple finally passed me.

I made the circuit of the campground and the boat ramp and didn't see anything except more snow buntings and what I thought with the naked eye was a northern shrike turned into a northern mockingbird with binoculars. I saw two birds who were clearly not snow buntings or sparrows or mockingbirds land on top of a pine tree. Hmm, none of the above and on a pine tree, maybe it's those white-winged crossbills. I stopped the car and stared at them through binoculars long enough to realize they were not white-winged crossbills but red crossbills. I was pulled over to the side of the road, but that same elderly couple got real impatient with me again and honked their horn at me. They had plenty of room to get by me. Anyway, I pulled into a camp site and watched the red crossbills some more. They didn't open any pine cones while I was watching, so I guess I'll have to wait to see exactly how they do it.