I breakfasted with a friend prior to heading out to the park in Burlington. Who knew I had the potential to develop the bad habit of tuning out my friend’s chatter in favour of looking out the window at every bird that flew by. Note to self: must not recur.
The path to the park was extremely icy. I wondered to myself whether the trek was worth risking life and limb. Hear ye, hear ye, it was worth every extra heartbeat and life-altering symptom of post-traumatic stress disorder. An abundance of birds were flitting about in their respective glory.
I made my way to the shore where I spotted a domesticated mallard. Think me not the fount of all bird identification. I thought it was an albino mallard until the bird was identified by the helpful members of Flicker’s ID group.
Chatted with a lovely couple who directed us to the presence of a snowy owl. I was beyond stoked. Firstly, I wanted a picture of the owl and secondly, I developed a “need” for a scope. Well, I got a picture of the owl and the scope is presently on my “to be purchased in the very distant future” list.
The only sadness to this great day was the visual confrontation of the toll the harsh winter exacts on some birds. The sight of the deceased swan was heartbreaking but more so the duck trapped in the ice.
I was so saddened I couldn’t even get one fourth of the way through the chicken schnitzel I ordered at a restaurant later that afternoon. Then I started thinking about all the chronic complainers whining about how cold this winter has been. They ought to be grateful that they don’t have to live and survive in the elements 24 hours a day for consecutive weeks.
Spirits were lifted by the exquisite beauty of the red bellied woodpecker. Snobby gent is peering down at life at the bottom.
None but a dandy would contort himself so elegantly for a bite to eat!