Today the mercury hit a sweltering 50°, so after hitting the SEND button for a major assignment, I went outside to manufacture some Vitamin D.

My local walk is so convenient I rarely drive to the park anymore. It’s flat, but offers plenty of sun as it winds through a 4-mile square loop of rural backroads and village streets before meandering across the river where we pause to admire the old red mill and cascading waterfall before heading home again.

As I was pounding my work-a-day stress into the pavement, I noticed something reflect off the road. Why, it was a shiny new penny. Another step, I saw another penny.

I thought to hurry on by, but then I hesitated. The sun’s reflection off the copper-coated coins made them look awfully pretty against that cold, dark asphalt. What a shame it would be to abandon them to the next salt truck or Toyota Tacoma, which would cast them into a roadside ditch where they’d slowly dissolve and reemerge someday as a spindly thistle plant.

Besides, after a long, hard winter I’m going to take all the luck I can get. So I walked back and found the pennies, picked them up, and slid them into my shoe.

Ha, I thought. Maybe I’ll win my first million, or get that house in the country I always wanted.

Well, no sooner did I turn the corner, 75 yards away, when my luck cashed in. No, it wasn’t an overturned Brinks truck with hundred dollar bills scattering in the wind. It wasn’t Bob Barker saying “YOU’RE the next contestant on the Price is RIGHT!”

It was the angelic tinkling sound of a Horned Lark coming from a low position in a fallow ag field. As if it had seen me approaching, the bird flew up into the air and headed straight for me, banking off to a turn at last minute. It flew around a house, settled back into its bunker, and continued to sing.

Horned Larks feeding along a rural road in Livingston County, NY. Note the icy grass behind the birds. If I'm not mistaken, I captured this image on a January, 2009 outing with good old Mike Bergin of 10000birds.com

What a welcome sound! I had no idea these birds were here and so close to home. Yes, I am squarely in its range, but I normally travel much further to find a nice assemblage of Snow Buntings, Horned Larks, and the occasional Lapland Longspur. Nations Road, a rural path in Livingston County, is a favorite. I often look for them but don’t see them on Doran Road in Lima.

I stood, listened, and watched for awhile before continuing my walk. My luck was doubled when I heard another lark sing from a field further down the street!

Not sure about you, but I’ll be picking up more of these pennies in my future, shiny or not.

To hear the song of a Horned Lark, travel on over to the All About Birds website where you can learn about the larks and hear their typical song, which is a high-pitched tinkling sound that tumbles over the plains.

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2. Tale of Two Headless White Pelicans As luck would have it, my visit to Jamestown, NY coincided with the unexpected visit of two American White Pelicans. ...
3. Seven Owls, One New York Winter Owls may be quiet, secretive, and hard to find, but this past winter was an incredible winter for owls for me. I luxuriated in long...

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Old Man Winter is like the Kraken, a vile, gangly force unleashed upon us, one that repeatedly whomps its icy claws across the land and sends us scurrying into our dark, crowded mouse holes where we cower, shivering, until the creature returns from whence it came.

Right now, there are signs that Old Man Winter is retreating back to the depths, but he rarely disappears at once. He withdraws, and sinks, then changes his mind and resurfaces, bringing with him another surge of frigid intensity. We, his vassals, execute another mass retreat.

We know Old Man Winter cannot linger forever, just as we know he’s destined to return.

But malnourished spirits are nothing if not hopeful, and brief flashes of sushine send us outside during Winter’s brief respites, bounding upon the hills, singing loudly under our breath in the ebullience of spring’s memory.

As we march over the landscape, we note each tiny shred of avian, botanical, or astronomical evidence that spring, in its quiet slumber, has not forsaken us.

To this growing body of evidence traded on social channels, I submit my own observations:

• Friday was a sunny, sunny day. As I drove along a country road, I watched  two American Crows mob a Red-tailed Hawk. The Red-tailed was chill as he circled in a tight little radius, the two crows in perturbed pursuit. But it unfolded slowly, as if in slow motion.
• On Saturday, along a different country road, two small birds whizzed past my windshield in front of the car. As they landed on a roadside tree, their blue feathers splayed out as the birds came to full stops. They were male and female Eastern Bluebirds, perhaps pairing up for a summer fling?
• My neighbor’s daffodils have sprouted, showcasing a full inch of stem!

My final piece of evidence that spring is nigh is that I’m in the mood to clean. Heavily. I am resisting this urge with all my might (I have blogs to write, after all) but at some point spring may have its own brutal way with me.

I hope your spring comes faster, brighter, and better than you imagined. What sorts of evidence are you gathering this week?

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“‘Tis better to keep your mouth closed and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”

The veil is lifting. I see light ahead. My blogging will soon return.

The Day Job

Some of you may not know that besides being a birder and a writer, I’m a web consultant and social media coach. I help organizations visualize and redesign their websites to meet current standards and business needs, then I manage the process through completion.

Sometimes I manage teams of designers and programmers by specifying design needs and workflow. Other times I build sites entirely from scratch using my favorite content management system, Wordpress. Like this invasive species website I just finished.

This work is dynamic and fun. There’s nothing better than harnessing a vast sea of disparate electrons to make them behave in a persuasive and visually compelling way. And the tools to do this keep getting better (bow to Wordpress and social media), which makes it easier on content junkies like me.

So as the travel season starts to wane each fall, my consulting starts to pick up. Which is why, dear readers, I have been AWOL, lost at sea, sucked into the giant blackhole that is my (gasp!) DAY JOB.

The tragic thing about paid work: it gets in the way of good blogging!

Silent Blogs

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of some clever or interesting thing to blog about (and I have NOT forgotten about the promised post on bird photography 101). Sure, I’ve had a spare 20-30 minutes here or there where I could have posted a little hello, or some off-the-cuff “Wordless Wednesday” post (not that there’s anything wrong with those), but my golden rule of blogging is this: Write well, when you can. Which, on the flip side implies: Don’t write when you can’t write well!

Some of my posts require hours of research, writing, and editing. I once spent TEN HOURS on one post to get it right! Holy Moly! But while writing comes free from my heart, my time doesn’t, and if I can’t do it well, I usually wait until the time is ripe.

Which begs reference to my opening quote, as often attributed to Abe Lincoln as to Mark Twain: “‘Tis better to keep your mouth closed and be thought a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.”

So many of us bloggers are out here running uphill against a steady current of distractions which threaten to take our readers and–jeepers–our website traffic away. We all want to blog well and often, serve our readers in the little niches of our worlds, take care of our families, and at least 99.9% of us dream that we may someday get paid to blog. But 99.9% of us don’t and won’t.

Tough decisions must be made on a daily basis. So it’s not unusual for blogs (our passion!) to take a backseat to car payments, school plays, and cartfuls of frozen foods (because we all know writers can’t cook–or is that just me?).

RSS Feeds

If you get discouraged by spending your precious time surfing the net only to find your favorite blog voices have dimmed to the sound of chirping crickets, I understand! Thank you for your patience and interest  – most of us are simply doing what we were made to do, express our minds, ourselves with the written word. And I have some advice.

Try RSS feeds. What is an RSS feed? It’s a way to let your favorite blogs and news websites sending their content to YOU so you’ll reduce your aimless surfing by good measure.

For an easy tutorial on the concept, go here:

By getting RSS news feeds delivered directly to your email or RSS reader you can have more than a dozen of your favorite news organizations and blog voices all available on one screen. The “unread” links are in bold, telling you which is the latest news to catch up on.

My favorite blogs are delivered to both Google Reader and to my Mac’s Mail program. So easy! I ignore the bolded headlines until I have time to read.

RSS is the way of Now and Yesterday, so if you are not using RSS feeds, please don’t wait any longer. Ask me if you need any help to figure it out.

***

Blog Hash

Having just put to bed at least four different projects, I can now lift my chin and start thinking about that supremely luscious moment when I have the peace of mind to think creatively, calmly, and let my fingers do the walking all over these keys to serve up a new steaming plate of Blog Hash. Even this little exercise, this excuse-laden apology for being AWOL, is healing and preparing me to blog again.

And if you’re interested in what I’m going to serve up, grab that orange RSS Subscribe icon on the upper right and feed it into your reader or email. That icon is hungry to feed you good fodder.

Thanks for reading.

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The rickety fence and bare-limbed trees at Doran Road (Lima, NY) speak to me.

Doran Road (Lima, NY) is my favorite place to bird in winter. The undulating country road dead ends into a spectacular 240-degree vista of the Finger Lakes. I can see Bristol ski mountain in the distance.

I love taking friends and guests down to Doran Road, especially non-birders. I always hope that one or more wicked-faced owls will help create a memorable experience for them.

In the last three weeks, I’ve made two such visits. First, I accompanied a new friend, Debra Ross (she publishes a fantastic local family website called Rochester.kidsoutandabout.com) and Mike Bergin (from 10000birds.com).  It was a good night with a handful of Short-eared Owls and Northern Harriers. Mike spoke of that outing here.

Short-eared Owl observed with Mike and Debra. As you can see, I still haven't figured out how to photograph fast-flying raptors in near-dark conditions.

Last night, my family and I took my brother-in-law to see owls. It was windy and cold; so windy we used the van as a wind break.

Windy and cold.

In between being mauled by my enthusiastic boys, Richie scoped the horizon.

Richie sportin' some bins.

We were majorly disappointed to not find any owls but two gorgeous Northern Harriers gave a nice show.

Northern Harrier

We normally see 4-5 Northern Harriers and as many owls...but last night only two or three harriers made the show.

Owls remained scarce, even when we told the boys “Go into that field and act like voles!” The boys had brought their spy gear along, so the clanging Nerf guns and dark sunglasses probably blew their cover.

Owls were scarce, even though we told the boys "Go into that field and act like voles!"

Here Uncle Richie helps Jack demonstrate what it feels like to be a meadow vole at sunset along Doran Road…

This is what it feels like to be a meadow vole at sunset along Doran Road.

And though he might not have seen owls, two harriers and the owl-and-vole game made up for it.

Richie and Jackson

Owls or no owls, Doran Road is still the best gig in town.

Location: Doran and Townline Roads, Lima, NY.

Events: Nightly “Changing of the guard” show between Northern Harriers and Short-eared Owls.  Red-tailed Hawks and Northern Shrikes occasionally appear on stage.

Admission: Free

View: Priceless

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Black-capped chickadees are hungry, precocious little things that are easily tamed. Many a hunter has a story of a friendly chickadee dropping down onto his rifle to check him out, and photos of chickadees on photographers’ lenses are not uncommon. Our local park here in Rochester, NY (Mendon Ponds Park) has a songbird trail where chickadees, titmice, and even nuthatches gather to eat from the hands of chubby-palmed children and wistful adults.

We visited Saturday in order to get the family outdoors on the first sunny day we’d had in a long time.

Why stop at the hand? thought my husband, and offered his balding pate as a serving platter of black oil sunflower seeds.

"Screw the bright light, I'm going in for a landing. Those black-oil seeds are MINE."

"Well, this pad is a bit slippery but a few fast wing beats ought to keep me upright."

"Dang, this takes some fancy footwork, but lemme at those seeds!"

"I need a break."

"It's MY turn! Dude, why didn't you tell me about those porcelain tiles!"

"Criminy, how did you gain traction on this thing!"

"I'm starting to think the net energy gain from this meal will be ZERO!"

"Dude! I got the secret. Just hold onto the bristly gray blades and you're ON!"

"Yeah, let these gray spikes do the work."

"Enough. I'm outta here!"

"And we're off!"

Thanks to my good-natured husband for this post. Before writing, I asked him, “Would you mind if I made some bald jokes when I posted this?”

“As long as they’re funny.”

“So my bad jokes would offend you as bald person?”

Channeling his best Seinfeld, he replied, “Heck no, they’d offend me as a funny person!”

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This essay, which I first wrote in 2007 not long after I moved to Rochester, NY, seemed worthy of resurrection after my last post about kids in nature.

I wasn’t sure whether to title this post: Be Careful What You Wish For or, Believe in the Law of Attraction. So I decided to leave it up to you.

I have been dreaming of the day that my boys outpace me on a walk. It’s been agonizing, to say the least, to take my kids on an outdoorsy walk because, inevitably, one or both of them pitches a fit about being too tired, too bored, or too hurt to continue beyond the parking lot. Let me repeat. The Parking Lot.

See what I mean?

As a Mother and Nature Buff Who Loves To Hike, I have a problem with this.

My friends tell me this stage will pass…that my boys will one day seek to impress me with their strength, stamina, and prowess in the woods and I’ll be huffing and puffing to keep up. Seeing how the boys are going on all of 6 and 8, I’ve lost all belief.

You might think this is harsh. But walking in the woods with them is like walking on a giant flat of bubble gum…like being tied to a cement block, my legs moving and scraping back against the dirt as my chest leans forward into an invisible harness.

And then Sunday happened. We woke up, had coffee, puffed our feathers, then said “What’cha wanna do today?” Because to me, the only thing worth “doing” is seeing something natural and beautiful that’s also FREE, I said, “Let’s go to Sodus Point.”

I had no idea what or where Sodus Point was–but I liked the name. I had heard it on the local birding listserv.

I knew that

1) it was on the lake

2) it attracted birds

A bit more research (godiluv Google) showed that it is a hell of a lot birdier in winter, but it was still a good destination because it was On The Water, and all my trips to Target and Wegmans made me Yearn For The Sea (you know, parking lot gulls?).

So we went.

We took the slow road to Sodus, which meant meandering along Lake Road, home to obnoxiously beautiful lakefront McMansions with acres of manicured lawns that swept toward the parkway.

As we travelled further east, smaller, more intimate homesteads– built before the big lakefront boom–peeked from underneath large trees.

Soon we entered apple country, with thousands of acres of orchards and handwritten signs in Espanol para los trabajadores migratorios.

We picnicked at Sodus Point and admired its 1871 lighthouse and maritime museum. We even climbed 52 steps to the light tower for a 360-degree view. (The climb was a piece of cake—so why do those tiny muscles above my knees still ache?)

Maritime museum and lighthouse at Sodus Point, NY

The view from the light tower showed something incredible on the lakeshore just a few miles away: a dozen or more massive earthen spires reaching toward the sky. Looking through the binoculars they were impressive.

So we set out to capture those spires…

Sandstone spires from Chimney Bluffs State Park, Lake Ontario shoreline, New York.

The family climbed back in the car and made our way around Sodus Bay (a long drive, by the way) and wound up at Chimney Bluffs State Park. I studied the trail map while the boys took off in the direction of the water and found the lakeside trailhead.

Chimney Bluffs State Park, Lake Ontario shoreline, New York.

After a few hundred yards on the trail I felt suddenly naked and light, so I looked behind me to gather my burdens.

But they weren’t there. I realized my kids were running ahead…far ahead. They were disappearing into the woods along the windy trail that hugged, sometimes precipitously, the towering ridge above the lake.

They were FREE!

Free to roam, free to run.

I caught glimpse of their shirtless torsos, the bas relief of their precious vertebrae, spindly rib cages, and the graceful curve of their upper pelvic bone.

The boys raced along, smashing past wildflowers, bumping into kissing couples…

I totally hear Minnie Ripperton right now, "Loving you is easy cuz you're beautiful....la la la la la la do do do do do..."

…and tripping over tree roots. They stopped only long enough to cheat death by peering over the edge of the steep, vertical cliffs.

Note how close Paul's left foot is to the edge. That's how close the trail is the cliff.

We probably got a mile or two out of the boys before they honestly tuckered out. This was unheard of.

Gradual erosion of the rocks has left these sharp, grand spires in the Lake Ontario shoreline.

Midway through our jaunt, I asked Paul why he thought the kids were so eager to run the trails today. What made today different than any other day? Was the Law of Attraction–which states that if you ask the universe for something it will come to you no questions asked–at work here?

Paul leaned against a sign post, watching the boys play, and said: “No, it’s because the trails we’ve been taking them on WEREN’T NEARLY DANGEROUS ENOUGH.”

The sign behind his shoulder read: “DANGER. Sharp Unstable Bluffs. STAY BACK!”

Danger. Sharp Unstable Bluffs. STAY BACK!

Yep, its a boy thang.

Proud Warriors of Chimney Bluffs

UPDATE (January, 2010)

Two years later I can report that kids really DO grow up. Just last summer they put miles and miles under their shoes and climbed three Adirondack mountains. I find that the wilder the landscape, the more excited they are to explore it. I think this says a lot about the importance of saving our country’s wildest places. They strike a chord within all of us…”

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I recently renewed contact with a long-lost friend who said “What you do [for a living] sounds so interesting. Getting out there with nature.”

It was a kind, thoughtful comment. But I thought, how funny.

Getting “out there” with nature.

As if I and nature were not one in the same, were not cut from the same cloth. As if nature was all that stuff happening outside my back door and I was necessarily separate from it.

As if there was ever an option to live my life insulated from what is “out there.” Worse, as if that world outside the window was unknowable. Dangerous. Too much to absorb.

Getting out there with nature.

As if it so far way.

My poor friend. I’m sure she enjoys walks in the park and sitting by a glassy lake sipping merlot, as I do. I bet she enjoys bird song and warm winds.

But I couldn’t help but wonder: nature deficit disorder?

Nature deficit disorder is a term coined by Richard Louv in his 2005 book Last Child in the Woods. It refers to the disturbing trend that children spend less time outdoors, resulting in a wide range of behavioral problems and, I’ll add, spiritual emptiness.

Of course, plenty of adults suffer from this malady and are unwittingly passing this onto their children.

Last year, I led a ‘nature walk’ of 22 second-graders (6-7 yr old) across the schoolyard and into a narrow thicket of trees. We walked an asphalt pathway for a hundred yards then sat by a creek and ate a snack. Along the way, I asked the kids to use their five senses to detect what was around them. What did they smell? Touch? Hear? See? We even tasted a blade of grass.

A nature walk in the woods.

When I could get the young whippersnappers to sit still and listen (ha!), we listened for birdsong. We heard robins, chickadees, nuthatches…a distant crow.

But after we entered the narrow line of trees with a perfectly groomed path, I was sad when one child grew increasingly nervous and asked, “Are there bears in here?”

I realize kids don’t yet have perspective on the natural world, but it occurred to me this MUST be the first time this child has ever been in the woods near his hometown. He must have absorbed the fears of his parents, who probably knew so little about the outdoors that they were swayed by tales of deadly snakes, poisonous plants, and giant bears (in this isolated patch of woods in upstate NY). Perhaps they weren’t curious enough to separate fact from fiction in their nearby environment.

I could hear the parent saying “Junior, stay away from those bushes. Don’t touch that frog. Stay out of the water. Stop running. Stay close. Get in the car, we’re driving.”

Perhaps this is the same type of parent who, when taking their kids to the natural history museum, will shrug and murmur “I don’t know” when their kid asks them about an exhibit, WHEN THE SIGN EXPLAINING THE WHOLE THING STARES THEM IN THE FACE!

The Visitor Information Center, Adirondacks, NY

I don’t mean to rant. Okay, yes, I do. It’s my blog and I’ll rant if I want to. I fully realize that nature appreciation is considered a privilege for those who have enough food to eat and new shoes when the old ones wear out.

But even among these work-a-day folks around me, there’s plenty who are so disconnected from the outdoors that they think of me as an oddball curiosity for “getting out THERE with nature.”

I wish more of them would join me! So they can feel what it’s like to observe, enjoy, interact with, and feel they can understand, if they tried, Mother Nature.

Birders, nature enthusiasts, readers of this blog: I propose that we collaborate on an important mission: spread the accessibility of nature. Make it knowable to someone who hasn’t yet discovered it. Vow to take as many non-naturey friends into the out-of-doors as possible this year. Show them what you see and hear, help mend that disconnect, and we will ALL meet with success in uncommon hours.

If you take me up on the challenge, come back and leave me a comment or send an email. I’d love to hear how it went.

Check out my next post about what happens when you let kids explore wild places…

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I never tire of examining the plumage of Green Jays…the blacks and blues, the greens and yellows along with their chartreuse sibling. When I peer at them long enough, I see ocean beaches. I see Caribbean creamsicles, a coral reef with wings. And this makes my eyes melt.

Note the jay's slightly open beak. It had just picked up a small seed, repositioned itself on the perch, and was about to fly away into the shrubs. (Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival, Texas, 2009).

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At some point, the lush, green landscape around me turned cold and barren. The mercury now hovers in the single digits. A frosty white coating buries the trunk of every tree. The wind yawns and howls right through the single pane windows of this 1880s Victorian. With no fireplace to warm my tootsies by, I turn to memories of summer…of warm winds and nesting birds gone by. 

In this state of involuntary hibernation, I’m comforted by this brief clip of an Eastern Bluebird pair that nested in my backyard this summer.  Not a whole lot happens here, but it shows two brilliant blue birds with a mouthful of bugs intent on feeding their young against a backdrop of summer sound. 

Enjoy your moment of Zen.

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As long as round-ups are making the rounds, here’s my round-up of my ten favorite bird photos from 2009. Chosen either for quality or for the excitement of the bird itself, these are the top ten I’ll hold near and dear to my heart for years to come.

1. The star of the show at the Midwest Birding Symposium was this Kirtland’s Warbler, a rare and endangered species that breeds in the upper Midwest. Imagine my surprise, shock, and delight when festival organizers said this shot was likely the best captured during the festival-it’s been requested for use by several entities. This life-bird Kirtland’s Warbler brought tears to my eyes, and I was lucky enough to share that sighting with my friend Krissie, who is a new birder. This was practically the first bird she saw after learning how to use binoculars. Talk about spark bird!

Kirtland's Warbler (East Harbor State Park, western Ohio)

2. My life Scissor-tailed Flycatcher caught a southwest wind and wound up in central New York! His mission? To show that dreams really DO come true (Scissor-taileds are the only birds that show up in my dreams) and to signal, without a doubt, that I MUST attend the Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival of Texas come hell or high water. And as you’ll soon see, my camera was grateful for this event.

Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Montezuma National Wildlife Refuge, NY)

3. While down at the Rio Grande Valley Birding Festival, I photographed several life birds during my photography workshop at the Martin Ranch. This Pyrrhuloxia was one of my favorite shots.

My life Pyrrhuloxia at Martin Ranch (Rio Grande Valley, Texas)

4. While sitting quietly in a blind on the Martin Ranch, several Green Jays swooped in and out to grab nuts and go. They are gaudy, beautiful, feisty creatures. The closer I examine their colors, the more in awe  I become. Sitting still in a blind allowed me to find the appropriate exposure and focus settings and take hundreds upon hundreds of shots.

Green Jay (Rio Grande Valley, Texas)

5. Until the RGV, Vermilion Flycatcher had been on my most wanted list for YEARS, mostly due to the photographic artistry of those whose images show up on full-page spreads in birding magazines. It’s an unbelievably attractive red-and-black bird that is deceptively hard to photograph. The red is so intense that it easily saturates the image – I’m still working on solutions to this problem. This particular fellow was eating spiders and capturing insects from its tall perch in full view of our party at Santa Ana Wildlife Refuge in southern Texas. 

Vermilion Flycatcher at Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge (Rio Grande Valley, Texas)

6. Sometimes a pretty bird sits pretty in perfect light, allowing you a pretty good shot. This Tri-colored Heron was extremely cooperative as it sat on a huge pipe in one of the ponds at Viera Wetlands in Brevard County, Florida. These birds remind me of 1920s flappers.

Tri-colored Heron (Viera Wetlands, FL)

7. What some images lack in dazzle they make up for in novelty. This rare Lawrence’s Warbler paid visit to a nearby natural area last spring. The experience of learning about and searching for that bird was quite something. The LAWA is part of the Vermivora complex, and is a hybridized form of Golden-winged and Blue-winged warblers.

Lawrence's Warbler (Rush Oak Openings, near Rochester, NY)

8. The story of Eastern Bluebirds nesting in our backyard box was a classic csae of “If you build it, they will come.” It was an intensely loving and intimate experience to host this pair of bluebirds. I watched and waited for them daily while photographing their every move. Here, the female has just removed a fecal sack from the box. I love the gleam in her eye, and still remember how the sunlight reflected off the fecal sac when she brought it out. I submitted this to the Birders Who Blog, Tweet, and Chirp photo contest and WON! (Thanks if you voted for it!) 

Eastern Bluebird (Rochester, NY)

Would you mind if I inserted an (8.5) here? Considering how long I waited for nesting bluebirds and how immensely rich it was to watch them grow a family, this image of their nestlings ranks high on my 2009 list of faves. 

Eastern Bluebird nestlings (Rochester, NY)

9. I love several things about this shot of Delaware’s first-ever Roseate Spoonbill. First, I was lucky enough to see the bird. Second, I love how feminine and graceful the bird looks as it flies off the ground into a nearby tree. Third, this sighting was a perfect case where social networking can put you on a bird faster than a New York minute. Let me add a fourth: Birder’s World published this in their October, 2009 issue in the sightings section. 

Roseate Spoonbill, Delaware's First Record!

10. My best image of the year, in terms of quality, is this Scaled Quail. A covey advanced on the scene while I was huddled in the photo blind during the Martin Ranch photo safari in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. The photo opps were just dazzling, resulting in at least one publishable shot.

Scaled Quail at Martin Ranch (Rio Grande Valley, Texas)

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