Got my copy of the latest edition of The National Geographic Field Guide To The Birds Of North America, and am planning all sorts of forays into the local wilderness, such as it is.
What I like about birding (one of the many things, that is) is that it has shown me how thin the veneer of our civilization is — take a couple of steps in an unexpected direction, and you’ve left the “world” behind. One of my favorite birding places is very near our local casino, just over the state line in Indiana. I head to their parking lot, amidst a steady stream of cars, just one of the bunch. I take a slight turn to the left down the service driveway, and a small-but-paved branch off of that. I park the car, take two steps, and I’m in totally empty river-delta wetlands.
Totally empty, but for me. And the robins and crows and mallards and great blue herons and snowy egrets…
white pebble 