I have neglected to post to this blog for quite a long time.  I think it time to resume.  Today is Thanksgiving Day 2013 and I spent the morning in church--my church.  My church has no steeple, save for the large Live and Post Oak trees,  and the isle is the San Gabriel River which flows into Lake Georgetown.  The choir is directed by the scolding Spotted Towhee and the solo performed by the Carolina Wren. One of my daughters sent me a text inquiring where I was and when I would come over.  When I responded that I was in church, I got the LOL response.  She knew where I was!

 I learned this past week of the passing of a birding friend, Steve Gross.  Steve made this transition much to young, still in his forty's.  As I strolled along the trail, I thought of the amazing natural world that surrounded me and how fortunate I am to be in my seventies, in good health, and able to do the things I enjoy.  For this I am most thankful on this day dedicated to thanksgiving.  What I learned about Steve in our brief four years together was he and I shared the same passion for nature, specifically birds.  Steve had many friends in the birding community and was a strong advocate of teaching young people about the joy of birding.  I know he would have contributed much more to our hobby had he reached the age I am privileged to enjoy.

So on this clear, crisp morning, as I slowly moved along the trail listening for chips and songs of birds hidden in the tangle beside me, I savored this opportunity.  There was no other human activity, save a returning bow hunter without a kill.  While hunting is not my thing, he and I share the love of outdoors, otherwise he would not be returning at this early hour of the day.  As he passed by I was acutely aware of many sounds that were present.  A towhee mewed nearby, alerting  neighbors that humans were present, a sparrow chipped passing the word, while a nearby wren offered his staccato chatter as it sounded the alarm.   This is the first time I have visited Camp Tejas this fall and I reveled in the return of the sparrows and wrens.  I instantly knew winter had arrived! 

I love sparrows!  What and interesting group of birds.  To most they are simply LBJ's (little brown jobs), but to the seasoned observer they are much, much more.  The Harris's Sparrow is a real beauty of nature, even in its winter outfit.  Their rich, buff cheeks, set off by the black head, throat and breast spot distinguishes it from the others in this group. I first observed this species in the very early nineties.  I was new to birding then and was immediately enamoured by this bird.  There it sat perched on a limb, spotlighted by the early morning sun, making its appearance even more strikingly beautiful.  I had never seen a Harris's before this day,  so it took some study to figure out what I had observed.  To this day,  I can still see that bird on that day in my mind.  That's an impression!

Another of my favorites is the Lincoln's Sparrow. This skulking sparrow is better know for diving into the grass or bush to escape detection.  I can almost always tell it is a Lincoln's by the way it twist its tail just before making the plunge.  Lincoln's can be an exceptionally handsome LBJ's.  The offsetting tones of brownish back, grayish face and nape and the buff tones that often predominate the upper breast and sides, offer striking contrast, adding rich tone to this bashful sparrow.  The black spot often seen centered in its breast is a confirming mark.  I have observed  this species from deep South Texas to the upper reaches of Alaska. 

I always look forward to the winter arrival of "Pretty Boy" otherwise know as Spizella pusilla.  The common name is Field Sparrow.  The grayish face with  a brownish spot and cap, un-streacked gray breast, somehow force the eye to the pink bill and legs that almost immediately tell me this is a Field Sparrow.  I believe the simplicity of its markings is what makes this species such a strikingly, beautiful sparrow.  Generally not shy, it often strikes a pose as if to say "I know I'm beautiful, enjoy your look."

So what is the lesson here.  I think it is that all observations in nature must be done on a much deeper level than just a casual glance as we scurry through our busy lives.  We are part of this natural world, not its masters as we often think.  And, I hope you can now see that all LBJ's are not just dull little birds.  Instead they have their individual beauty just a we do.