The fan-like leaves of the sabal palms fluttered in the light breeze as if held in the well-manicured hands of a dainty southern lady seeking relief on a hot, humid day. I looked… Continue reading
The following is a guest post, written by my husband, Stephen Hannington. I have been a keen bird watcher since I was six years old when a cousin introduced me to the world… Continue reading
They don’t necessarily roost in the same corner every night–they move around. At this point we had created a bit of a birder traffic jam in the neighborhood.
The milky white of the owl was startling and her yellow eyes locked on us with appropriate caution and concern. I had to remind myself to breathe.
I wasn’t expecting the Eastern Phoebe, but there he was, a juvenile, swooping for insects and returning to his same branch.
“Hummingbirds are the gateway drug to birding,” Sheri said. She then grabs a straw and puts it in her mouth and begins to blow lightly on the underside of a hummingbird and I see that her breath opens up the feathers, revealing a light, pink tummy.
First there were about 50 birds up in the sky circling overhead. Then another group came in—this time a hundred or so. It was still pretty light outside. Then bigger groups of Purple… Continue reading