Yesterday’s phenology: A good phenologist would notice tiny little details every day that would illuminate the natural world and the passing of the seasons. “The migratory Amboy Snipe, sometimes known as the Crackerjack Snipe, is passing through on schedule, singing it’s melancholy autumn traveling song in the key of d minor at roughly 10 minutes before dawn. In the fall you’ll see this cute little fellow carrying a single stem of arctic willow south, a token from its summer vacation with which it will begin its winter nesting in the warmer southern climes of the ancient Mayan temples of the Yucatan.”
Here, though, not so much. I saw a bunch of little brown birds darting about a vine in a garden. Sparrows? Waxwings? I didn’t get a good look. They toyed with me awhile and then flew away, singing a disdainful mocking song that sounded something like “TOO-bad TOO-bad TOO-bad LOO-zer LOO-zer LOO-zer.”
It was a long cloudy day. Night fell quickly.
Song of the day: Rikki Lee Jones – Last Chance Texaco