Herring Gull

To Escape the heat for a couple of days, I headed to Duluth to cool off.  Even up there it was in the 90's, except when you get right down to the shoreline, which is what I did.


It is not a great time for seeing a variety of birds, as they are hunkered down raising their young.  Consequently, I decided to make a study of these two gulls.  They are about the only species of gulls on the big lake at this time of the year.  Later on, in the fall, winter and spring, one can see a wonderful variety of gulls -- the Thayer's Gull, Iceland gull,  Glaucous Gull and others.

There is a pleasant two mile walk along the Lester River shoreline just at the north edge of town.  It's a city park, actually.  Here I found them both.  They are really quite similar, with the Herring Gull being a bit larger. 

The ring around the appropriately named gull can be deceiving -- sometimes only a mature bird will display this ring.

Otherwise, both gulls look as though they have dipped their bills into a bottle of ink.  The best identifying mark I found was in the color of their legs.  The Ring-Billed gulls haves distinct yellow legs, whereas the Herring Gull has pinkish, or grayish legs.  The gulls we find around here are, most likely, the Herring Gulls.

The Kmart parking lot just off of Nicollet Avenue is a great place to find them, but the Kmarts are disappearing... like vanishing bird species.  The gulls had consequently moved over to Walmart... until, that is, just the other day, when it came to light that Walmart has been doing business with farms here in Minnesota that have been cited for cruelty to animals.  I suggested to the gulls at one of their council meetings that they might upgrade to the Target lot, especially the one over on Minnehaha Avenue in Minneapolis, which is also near a Cub and Rainbow grocery store.  But they reminded me that Target made a large contribution to the Emmer campaign during the last gubernatorial race in support of his stance on gays. (Apparently there are more gay gulls than I ever realized.)  I assured them however, that Target has apologized, and has reversed it's stance on the issue.  The gulls seemed gratified to hear this.  We'll see...

Muscovy Duck

Muscovy Duck

Maybe we'll stick with ducks for a while, for they represent water, and water is all one thinks about on these hot July days. 

As you can see, in the world of ducks, this poor guy is kind of ugly, although he doesn't know that, and from a duck's perspective, he is probably considered beautiful. 

When we first saw the duck -- in Texas earlier this year -- I was confused, as he looks so similar to the Muscovy ducks we used to have on the farm.  In reality, they are a feral duck, and the ones with the whitish heads are usually of the more domesticated stock, while the ones which are black all over, are still in the wild mode.  The domestic ones are heavier, and are more stocky.  In the wild, they prefer shallow ponds with lots of shade.

The Sour Owl

This is a bit out of the purview of our regular postings, but, recently, I was reminded by an old friend of the Sour Owl.  It was a coffeehouse which predated the Ten O'clock Scholar in Dinkytown where, back in the early 60's, Bob Dylan and the rest of us lesser known musicians got our start.

I was not in this group, as I was between living in Alaska, and West Africa, as the following e mail will explain. But Steve Oleson, a gifted young flamenco guitarist was present, and after all these years, his name has come back into my life.  This is about flamenco, not birds, so you can cut out at any time.

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I graduated from the School of Forestry at the U of M in 1960, and took a six month job in Alaska.  When I came home, unsure of what lie ahead of me, I signed a contract to go to Liberia, West Africa to be the superintendent of a rubber plantation (Fireststone Tire & Rubber), where I was to remain for two years until I realized my dream of going to Spain to study flamenco.

Much like Steve, up to that point I had taught myself -- lugging my axe all the way up to Alaska to drive my bunk mates nuts.  Upon my return home, I'd have six months before leaving for Africa.  It was during this period that I discovered Steve, whose brain I picked relentlessly in pursuit of knowledge.

He was a gifted musician, and a gracious teacher.  We became good friends...and then I left for Liberia.


While I was gone, Steve was killed in an auto accident.  His wife, Ann Mossman who danced with my mother as part of the Nancy Hauser Dance company, followed through on the gypsy tradition of having his marvelous Ramirez guitar smashed and put into the grave with him.  Had I been around, I would have convinced her to give it to me!!

Tony and I appreciate Billy's accolades on our behalf, but given  lives in music, as we have been blessed with , I know Steve would have continued growing as an artist and a musician, and would have achieved great acclaim.  He never got go to Spain (as I have had the good fortune to do) and to learn the full dimensions of the craft of playing flamenco... learning to accompany dancing and singing and everything that goes with a centuries-old folk art form.   That would have been his next step.

His life was cut short, or he would have emerged as I have, now at the age of 74, as one of the few representatives of the first generation of Americans to travel to Spain to study this deceivingly complex, difficult and poorly unappreciated and misunderstood form of guitar playing.

If I had stayed in forestry, I could have retired 20 years ago!

The Gadwall

Gadwall

Gadwall?  'What is a Gadwall,' many of you are saying. 

Simply put, the Gadwall is a common duck...sort of like a Mallard, but without the features.  The Gadwall is what we call a "dabbling duck."  They are found in marshes and ponds throughout most of the country, and certainly in Minnesota.  They are described as wearing a "herringbone" suit. 

Audubon's Oriole: Part 2

Audubon's Oriole

This oriole also exists only in Texas, and for the most part, the southern tip.  He is unmistakably an oriole, with a hooded black head (adult).  The major difference with this guy and most other orioles is that yellow replaces orange as the main color of his body.  Scott's Oriole is also yellow, but the black hood extends much further down it's chest.

It was at this point, north of McAllen, Texas, and overlooking the Rio Grande that we encountered a number of border guards.  Apparently the cartels were very active, and some innocent person on a ski-do recently got shot in a case of mistaken identity.  My friend Jim once told me a story about a time when he was down here in the same general area some years before.  He was sitting in the bushes watching a flatboat come across the Rio Grande loaded with what seemed tt be bales of something or other.  A border guy later told him he was lucky to have gotten out of there alive, for if the drug smugglers had seen him, they surely would have shot him!