Myrtle Warbler, Oregon, 29 April 2011 by Greg Gillson.Blank stares.
I might as well as have been speaking a foreign language. Perhaps I was.
This birding couple was looking at a dozen or so warblers flitting about in the oak tree. They were obviously not just "eagle watchers." They were birders.
The birds were all singing the same sweet rolling song: weevee-weevee-weevee-weevee-swee-swee-swee-swee.
Wanting to be friendly I approached this birding couple.
It was a simple enough statement. I said, "All I hear are Myrtle Warblers."
Then I got those blank stares.
"Myrtle Warblers. You know, the white-throated form of Yellow-rumped Warblers?"
"Oh," they said. And then to themselves, "Butter-butts."
As they turned and walked quickly away they said, "We don't identify birds by song." Was that a disdainful tone? I must be mistaken.
Why do I feel like Peter Parker?
Peter Parker: Some spiders change colors to blend into their environment. It's a defense mechanism.
Harry Osborn: Peter, what possibly makes you think I would want to know that?
Peter Parker: Who wouldn't?- - - - - - -
Spiderman (2002)
Who wouldn't want to know every field identifiable form of bird?
Who wouldn't want to learn to identify birds by ear?
So, what do I have in common with Spiderman? Only Peter Parker.
Move over Peter Parker. Make room for another nerd.
