Yucatan Gallery

 Some miscellaneous photos of our trip. (Photos can be enlarged by clicking on them)

Brown Pelicans, Rio Lagartos with mangrove in background

Mangrove, San Felipe

Bronzed Cowbird, Parque Cancun

Great-tailed Grackles, Puerto Morelos

Hooded Oriole, Puerto Morelos

Iguana, Parque Cancun

Iguana, Parque Cancun

Plain Chachalaca, Puerto Morelos

Agouti, a street mammal that lives in the mangrove

Western Cattle Egret, Rio Lagartos

Golden-fronted Woodpeckers, Puerto Morelos

Ruddy Ground Dove, Puerto Morelos

Brown Pelican, Puerto Morelos

Political Problem

When I first saw this sticker on the back window of a truck at Wells Mills Park, I chuckled. Then I felt uneasy because I couldn't tell whether it was ironic or sincere.

(For the uninitiated, a Piney is a resident of the Pine Barrens, sort of New Jersey's version of a hillbilly.)

Objective Correlative

I hadn't been to the cranberry bogs in South Toms River for a few weeks, so I was glad to see that the park's administration (the bogs are part of Double Trouble Park which in turn is part of Brendan Byrne Forest) had put up a barrier to keep unauthorized vehicles out. It looked pretty solid to me, the concrete post sunk deep into the ground. I thought you'd need a bulldozer to damage it. 

Two hours later I was disheartened, disgusted, to see the barrier already pushed aside, the warning sign ripped off, and fresh tire tracks going up the hill. The rules don't apply in the Age of Trump. I know it's a stretch and it has been ever thus, but to me, this is the objective correlative of the state we're in and I don't mean New Jersey.  

The Dumbest Thing I Have Done This Year

But it's early.

Stuck

I have been birding Whitesbog for more than 12 years.  I have been there well over 700 times. I have driven its dikes and dams for hundreds of miles, in the dark, in the rain, through snow and over ice.  But, as the guy supervising getting my car out of the Lower Bog said, "You come here enough, eventually you're gonna slide off the road."  

Which didn't make me feel any less stupid. 

The day started like hundreds of others out on the bogs. I stopped at the Lower Bog, which this month was lowered to discouraged the Tundra Swans and Canada Geese and keep them in Union Pond, away from the working bogs. I pulled over to the side of the road, right in front of the wooden bridge that is inset into the road. Had I driven a foot and half farther and set my front tires on the bridge, you wouldn't be reading this. But I didn't, because I wanted to keep the road clear in case someone else was driving around. I scanned the bog for a while, hoping for snipe, but only came up with Killdeer, blackbirds, and grackles. 

I put my scope in the car, started it up, put it in drive...and it wouldn't go forward. I looked ahead of me and saw that my bumper was actually up against the edge of the bridge. The shoulder was soft. I didn't think it was that big a deal--at first. I'd just turn the wheel to the left and get back on the hard part of the road. First, I had to back up a little. And backing up collapsed the road more. Then I went forward a little, then back, then I put the car into X mode, which just spun the tires more and when I got out of the car I was perpendicular to the road, and about 2 feet away from the water at the edge--front tires buried in sand, back tires in mud. 

My first thought was that maybe my friend was around, and he could help. I called him, and he said he'd be right over, but he didn't have anything to pull me out with. I called AAA and after the usual the rigamarole they said they'd be there within an hour and a half. Just then M--- pulled up and saw my predicament. He's the supervisor and was checking the water flow of the gates. I told him that AAA was on the way. He thought that would be good, because, while he had the equipment to get me out, he didn't want to take the chance of damaging my car. He'd make his rounds and check back with me around 10. So now all I had to do was wait. I couldn't really imagine how a tow truck was going to pull me out with the front of the car buried in sand, but I guessed they had their ways. A little later my friend came up and said it was a good thing the bog wasn't full of water.  I replied, "If the bog had been full of water, I wouldn't have stopped here!" 

The extrication begins

Then I got a text from AAA asking me to share my location with them, which I did. 10 minutes later I got another text saying that now that they saw where I actually was, they couldn't help me, because they only do towing in accessible places that are no more than 50 feet from a paved surface. Thanks for nothing. I called M--- (I had taken his number) and told him I would have to prevail upon him. Very quickly, he and J arrived, J in a backhoe. J and I have the occasional chat about birds and the bogs when we see each other. J and M--- got to work, first J smoothed out the slope where I had grooved it trying to get out up the hill, then M---attached one end of strap to the axle of my car and the other end to the shovel of the backhoe. Warning me that they might damage the bumper, they got to work. It seemed excruciatingly slow, but the car inched up the incline, and within 10 minutes was on the road again--with, miraculously, no damage to the car. This obviously wasn't the first vehicle they've pulled from the bogs. "Hell," M--- said, "we've had overturned dump trucks in the bogs." Again, it didn't make me feel any less stupid. 

But I can tell you one thing: It's the last time I'm considerate about where I park there. 

Almost

Extricated

Bat Box Double Trouble

ONLY PATRIOTIC BATS 
PERMITTED IN THIS BOX

Pareidolia

(Look it up) 

Cattus Island CP 3/21--Osprey

I was standing on the trail of Cattus Island where it goes between the marshes this morning, listening to a woodpecker hammering back in the woods, thinking what baloney it was that some people claim they can tell the species of woodpecker by the sound of it battering a tree, when I realized that I was also hearing an annoying "cheep cheep" from behind me.  Osprey. Ever since my summers on Martha's Vineyard where an Osprey nest was across the pond from my rented cottage, the incessant calling of that raptor has been like fingernails on a blackboard to me (aside: there's a phrase probably no one under 50 has ever experienced).(Further aside: same with "broken record.")

I turned around and there were two Osprey flying around, maybe a pair looking to set up housekeeping. One briefly landed on a nesting platform in the marsh, then took off. Although there has been at least one Osprey visiting Point Pleasant all winter, mid-March is the usual time they reappear in these parts. Eventually, on my way out, one of the Osprey was sitting on a different platform about a mile away. I took the obligatory (not-very-good) photo.

And so, photographers, stake out those Osprey nests. You too can add to the billions of photos of Ospreys, all of which look pretty much alike in these 3 categories: Osprey(s) sitting on nest. Osprey in flight, carrying fish. Osprey diving to catch fish (oooh).  I used to take one good photo of an Osprey at Brig and publish it on this blog as a public service, so that no one would have to waste their time waiting for the light to be just right, but it didn't seem to have any effect--the mystifying photographic fascination never abates. 

Actually, I happen to have taken the best picture of an Osprey. 

One year at Brig, I was going around the drive by myself when an Osprey was standing on the road in the path of my car. It wasn't sick. It didn't have a fish to eat. It just felt like being there, I guess. I waited and it stood there. I took a few photos to kill time, and it still stood there. I got back in the car and drove up, figuring it would fly away. It just stood there. I pulled up beside it and took a picture. It stood there. I leaned out of the car window and put the lens in its face. It didn't care. It stood there. And this is the picture I took:

Tell me it isn't the best photo of an Osprey you ever saw. 

Editing Doggerel

 

This sign is from Whitesbog, but I saw one with the same sentiment in Beach Lake, Pennsylvania, so I suppose it is fairly common wherever outdoor weddings are held. I first noticed the sign this summer leaning up again one of the buildings in Whitesbog Village and whenever I'd see it the last few months, I'd notice that something about it nagged at me. Today I realized what it was: The meter is off.

This little piece of doggerel is written in, harkening back to my English major days, dactylic trimeter, which is one stressed beat followed by two unstressed beats:

Pick a seat

Not a side

You are loved

by the

Groom and Bride

The fourth line is missing a beat, a word. The meter would be filled out by "both."

by both the

It's a little thing (maybe) but it's the kind of thing that bothers me because it seems obvious (and easily fixed) and yet is wrong in at least two places more than 100 miles apart. And "both" would also make the verse stronger by emphasizing the unity of the Groom and Bride. The kind of things I worry about when the birding is slow:

Of doggerel

I am no fan.

At least I know

It has to scan.

Bear Aftermath

 The question was whether I'd have any feeders to take in. Fortunately, most of them were empty and survived. Unfortunately, this one, an expensive "Squirrel Buster" freshly filled up with about $10 worth of cracked sunflower seeds, didn't. I wonder what my insurance deductible on bird feeders is? 

I just noticed a little while ago that the pine tree from which this feeder was hanging had two branches broken, each hanging on by splinters. 

Of course, Shari thinks we should name the bear. I hope never to see it again, but I proposed the non-binary name of "Eleven." 

Guess I Have to Take in the Bird Feeders Tomorrow

If we have any left in the morning.

Our backyard tonight:

Supposedly, there are bears in every county in New Jersey, but I never expected one to wander out of the Whiting WMA and plunk down in our backyard, swatting at the bird feeders. It looks very comfortable out there, 10 feet away from the house. Shari opened the window and played the kazoo to see if that would scare it off; didn't seem to bother the bear as much as it bothered me. And I thought the squirrel that ran into the garage this afternoon was a problem. 

 

Good Advice at Any Time

 

Wawa Branching Out to More Exotic Fare?

 

Lake of the Lillies (sic)

I love a really big, hard to correct, misspelling. A typo in a book is easily overlooked (that's why they're typos) unless, like me, you spent 30 years worrying about them. But misspellings in other media are so much harder to understand. I've seen them in neon (PAY ALL UTILITES), in metal ("waterflow" for "waterfowl" on a sign at Magee Marsh), on silkscreened banners ("FRAMERS" for "FARMERS"), and today, carved in wood. There is a psychological law of perception in which you see what you expect to see, not what you are actually seeing. I have stood in front of botched signs with someone (not mentioning any names) and said, "Read the sign.... again...again." It usually takes 3 readings for the error to pop out. 

Today, while I was walking around 3 sides of the Lake of the Lilies in Point Pleasant Beach, I came to the southeast corner where there is a small grove of trees that sometimes holds a few passerines with which to pad your list. In front of this grove there is the sign above. I took one look at it, took a photo with my phone, and sent it to a birder friend who lives in "Point Beach." 

"Ever notice that this sign is misspelled?" I texted her. 

Immediately an answer came back that yes, she had, and had thought about asking the municipal authorities to correct it. However, whoever carved the sign may have been unwittingly copying a mistake, since the misspelling goes back many years and appears on old maps of Point Pleasant Beach, as evidenced by some pics she sent me. It is a cartographer's trick to put in a few mistakes in a map to have evidence should the map ever be plagiarized. I'm wondering if that's what happened here. It is also listed as a "variant" in the 1983 USGS Gazetteer for New Jersey (a page of which she also sent me) along with the variants Eskins Pond and Old Sams Pond*. It has also gone under the name of Mineral Lake. All very interesting, but "Lillies" is wrong. 

Now, I admit, that whenever I type the word "lily" I have to think about it. It seems like it should have two ells. But that's the point: I think about. I pause. I check. If I was carving a sign, I wouldn't just start hacking away with a chisel without confirming every letter I was about to chisel. It is congruent with the carpenter's law of "Measure twice, cut once." 

As to the bird life in the grove itself: one Song Sparrow, one Northern Mockingbird, and a horde of House Sparrows. 

But the sign made the walk worth it. 

*Without the expected apostrophe.

Helpful Signs Along the Way

 Whitesbog Boardwalk Trail

You Can't Proofread Graffiti

This is the old Jersey Central RR overpass on Rt 72 in Chatsworth. To paint his message, a moron had to hang over the ledge and spray on his political "thought" upside down 18 feet off the pavement. Unfortunately, "mirror writing" is hard to execute. Particularly in the dark when I assume this had to be done. The backwards "4" is classic. The "Biben" brings to mind the old saying, "Mind your p's & q's" because when setting type by hand the letters are reversed on their slugs and the p's & q's look similar, as do the b's and d's. 

Brilliant bro, a well thought out cogent statement that tells us everything we need to know about you and well worth risking your skull to do. 

Help Wanted: Proofreader for Political Statements

 

Lawn Ornaments

Fawn Lawn

 

Question: Why Are There No Birds on These Feeders?

Whitesbog Village

 

Island Beach SP 11/28---Red Crossbill

"Kip, Kip, Kip," is the transliteration of the call flyover Red Crossbills give as they zip above your head, unseen. This being an irruption year--first the hordes of siskins, then the flocks of Evening Grosbeaks--I've been seeing reports of crossbills from all over the state, but today, walking through the parking lot at Island Beach during Scott's field trip, was the first time I've heard them this year. That I know of. When I see all these reports I'm led to wonder if I too haven't been below a flock of kipping crossbills and have been either too oblivious or too deaf to notice them. Today I heard the birds but in the way that you hear the refrigerator just as it turns itself off. I wasn't aware of the calls until Scott and David pointed them out. How many times in the last few weeks when I've been birding alone has this happened? No way to know. 

Actually, not only was it the first time I've heard Red Crossbills this year, it was the first time I'd ever heard them. All the other occasions that I've seen these birds they were quietly feeding, another trait they're known for--noisy on the fly, silent on the feed.  But, glad as I am to have them "on the list," especially for the county, I have to admit that a few kips in the morning air is not nearly as satisfying as viewing them. But despite looking at various conifers along the roadside and in the parking lots, those were the only the birds to make themselves manifest. 

For a beautiful fall day, with virtually no wind, which made sea watching not a torture, there weren't all that many birds to be found on the ocean (the usual ducks, loons and gannets), the bay (Buffleheads and Horned Grebes) or the trails (practically zip). Had I been birding solo, I'd chalk up the short list to my mediocre birding skills. With Scott and Linda leading the way, I know that the birds just weren't there. 

The one other species I was happy to see was the American Tree Sparrow that popped up on the Johnny Allen Cove trail. Not rare, but not ubiquitous either, a pretty little sparrow that for some reason I knock myself out to find early in the year. 

For the day we (Shari & I) had 34 species. 

Brant  125

American Black Duck  6    Bay side from A6

Common Eider  7    Hens flying south

Surf Scoter  17

White-winged Scoter  1    From Swimming Beach 1

Black Scoter  3

Long-tailed Duck  7

Bufflehead  150

Red-breasted Merganser  3

Horned Grebe  15    Bay side

Herring Gull  10

Great Black-backed Gull  2

Red-throated Loon  12

Common Loon  15

Northern Gannet  40

Double-crested Cormorant  20

Great Blue Heron  1    Spizzle Creek

Northern Harrier  1    Spizzle Creek

Red-tailed Hawk  1

Peregrine Falcon  1    On tower outside of park entrance

American Crow  1    Swimming Beach 1 parking lot

Carolina Chickadee  4

Red-breasted Nuthatch  1    In cedar outside park entrance

Carolina Wren  1    Heard

European Starling  8    Wire outside park entrance

Northern Mockingbird  6    

House Sparrow  4    Entrance feeder

House Finch  25

Red Crossbill  2    Heard kip kip kip flyovers

American Goldfinch  2    Heard

American Tree Sparrow  1    Johnny Allen

Dark-eyed Junco  2

Song Sparrow  1

Yellow-rumped Warbler  1

Photo of lizard-like root taken in dunes by Shari Zirlin

Gilgal Garden

The Sphinx with the face of Joseph Smith

Gilgal Gardens was created by a masonry contractor Thomas Battersby Child in his backyard, about a mile from downtown Salt Lake City. Gilgal is a biblical reference meaning "circle of stones." Unlike most other visionary artists, Child was a man of means and thus was able to hire trucks and equipment to haul huge boulders to his property and to hire a sculptor to carry out his ideas on the stones that he arranged in his yard. The stones were carved using an oxyacetylene torch instead of a chisel, a technique that Child invented and that his son-in-law, who was an expert welder, taught to the sculptor they hired for the figurative aspects of the sculptures, Maurice Brooks He spent many hours scouring the hills and canyons for interesting looking rocks that spoke to him. The project went on from 1947 until his death in 1963. The property passed to other owners, who tried to maintain it despite vandalism. After it was threatened with destruction for a building project, a non-profit group, the Friends of Gilgal Garden, was formed and they, along with a gardening association, maintain the 1/2 acre site, nestled behind residential properties. It is, by far, the most interesting art work you will find in Salt Lake City. 

Monument to the Trade

Birdhouse

Captain of the Lord's Host

Last Chapter of Ecclesiastes

The grasshopper, for example, was carved from a stone that Child found at the mouth of Big Cottonwood Canyon using the oxyacetylene torch. It was displayed in New York by the Linde Air Products Corp, which made the torches. 

California Quail climbing down from a sculpture