France: A path forward
It had been over an hour of tripping, with thorny branches pulling and tugging on me and I was horrified by Frédéric’s bloody legs. I’d had enough of this hike.
It had been over an hour of tripping, with thorny branches pulling and tugging on me and I was horrified by Frédéric’s bloody legs. I’d had enough of this hike.
Each breakfast, Dominique greeted us with her sing-songy, “Bon jour!” It’s the way I want to wake up every morning, I decided. With a song and a croissant. As we drove to our… Continue reading
We were a small band of birders in the South of France. Joining Steve and me was another couple, Ann and Brian, from the U.K., and they were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary.… Continue reading
“It was too dangerous,” Steve said. “We’ll try tomorrow.” I was relieved as everyone piled back in and we headed back for a two-hour drive back to Önundarfjörður, where we were staying for the next couple nights.
These terns have come a long way to get here, and they are nesting in Iceland and nearby Greenland.
Nestled in this wild, ever-changing land, is a creche for baby birds.
We were supposed to be birding in France last year, but two weeks before we were to leave for Paris the world shut down as COVID-19 rapidly exploded around the world. It stung… Continue reading
We skulk around a dense, shadowy forested area where there is no path, moving limbs and vines out of our way. It’s a little precarious leaving the security of a trail.
At the top of the cliffside the sky is filled with spectacular Red-billed Tropicbirds with their long streamer tails. They fly like fairies, gliding and swooping with their aerial acrobatics.
And here we are in Trinidad…where a bus full of revelers parks right next to our search for a bird.