This weekend we put the last two syllables of the word “marathon” back into the Yukon Birdathon. Ken, Wendy and I are recovering today, after 16 hours of frantic birding and a few hours of deep sleep. We traveled about 50 miles, scouring marshes, spruce forests and a putrid sewage lagoon. We finished our birdathon along the Yukon River admiring a singing Warbling Vireo, or 77th species. The star bird of the birdathon was an Eared Grebe, only the fifth Yukon record. It was conveniently swimming alongside a pair of our more common Horned Grebes for comparison. I thought that it was considerate, although the grebe no doubt did not have our welfare in mind.
Wendy hopes that our Bird Year will not be as exhausting as the birdathon. If it turns out to be, either we’ll end it with loads of species – or we’ll finish it halfway through, in a hospital with fatigue-induced something.
(to the left is Malkolm's drawing of the Eared Grebe)
Wendy hopes that our Bird Year will not be as exhausting as the birdathon. If it turns out to be, either we’ll end it with loads of species – or we’ll finish it halfway through, in a hospital with fatigue-induced something.
(to the left is Malkolm's drawing of the Eared Grebe)
No comments:
Post a Comment