View from my perch

Alexander Wilson, American Ornithologist

Reading Scott Wiedensaul's book Of a Feather made me want to know more about early American Ornithologist Alexander Wilson. The book references Alexander Wilson: Naturalist and Pioneer, by Robert Cantwell. My Google search netted little of note aside from one gem: Alexander Wilson, American Ornithologist. It serves up images of his bird paintings, a biography, and references to more information.

Willem Lange

Willem Lange is one of several interesting and "semi-famous" people my wife and I met on our recent trip to Hawk Mountain Sanctuary. Mr. Lange was there with a crew from New Hampshire Public Television working on a program about Broad-winged Hawk migration. He is the host of a program on that network entitled Windows to the Wild. To quote from that site, "this beautifully filmed program presents some of New England’s most unique natural environments." Because we live in California, we are not going to be seeing those programs unless we make a trip to New England. Mr. Lange recommended a visit to the White Mountains of New Hampshire, so perhaps during a trip there we will catch an episode or two.

Regular birds

Here is a list of bird species which frequent our hillside bird feeder:

Mourning Dove
House Finch
Song Sparrow
Western Scrub Jay
California Thrasher
California Towhee
Spotted Towhee

Our "hillside bird feeder" is simply the side of the hill just outside our door, onto which we throw some birdseed every morning.

Other regular visitors are "J.R." and "J.S." -- "Just Rabbit" and "Just Squirrel".

Hawk Mountain Sanctuary

Hawk Mountain Sanctuary is a place to which I have been many times and which I plan to visit again this autumn. Situated on the Appalachian Flyway in east-central Pennsylvania --roughly north of Reading and west of Allentown -- Hawk Mountain Sanctuary is noted as an extraordinary site for watching the annual autumnal spectacle of raptor migration.

Little bird

I drove by the perched Belted Kingfisher again on the way to work. I was lamenting having to just keep driving and go to work. I thought that -- if now is really important -- I should stop, get out my binoculars, and have a look, like I've been wanting to do. Perhaps -- if now is really important -- going to work is not the right choice.

Once parked in the parking lot, I noticed a bird perched on the shrubbery I parked in front of. A young bird which looked familiar but which I couldn't confidently identify. It was close, but just far enough away that my binoculars could focus on it, so I got the best possible look. It dove down into the shrub at one point, but came back up quickly. Perhaps there's a nest hidden in there? After watching it for a few more minutes, it flew off. This little bird has made all the difference.

South to the Pacific

I am reading David McCullough's book Brave Companions and just finished the chapter "Steam Road to El Dorado," about the building of the (first) trans-Panama railroad, begun in 1850 and completed in 1855.  The Panama Canal roughly follows the route of that railroad. Surprisingly, the route from the Atlantic to the Pacific is close to due south, since the isthmus tends east-west. The island of Barro Colorado lies within Lake Gatun, which forms part of the canal. Barro Colorado is where ornithologist Frank Chapman lived and worked and which is referred to in his books Autobiography of a Bird-Lover and My Tropical Air Castle.

Stalking the Water Ouzel

That's Ouzel, not Weasel.

A Water Ouzel is a bird, also known as American Dipper, Latin name Cinclus Mexicanus. I saw one for the first time today, near Forks, Washington. (Yes, I'm on "holiday", traveling in western Washington state.)

I thought of the name Water Ouzel -- instead of America Dipper -- because that is the name John Muir used for it in his writing about the bird which I recalled reading. That would be The Water Ouzel, Chapter 13 of Muir's The Mountains of California, those mountains being the place I naturally expected to see my first Water Ouzel.

Apparently "American Dipper" is the more common common name. To paraphrase Kenn Kaufman in Birds of North America, it is a "stubby gray bird which flies low over mountain streams, pauses to bob up and down on a rock, then jumps into the water, swimming and diving, then walking on the stream bottom." The one I saw was finding plenty to eat in its aquatic foraging.

Torreys

That's right, Torreys, not Tories.

In my recent reading I've encountered the names of two men named Torrey, Bradford and John.

Bradford Torrey (1843-1912) was a nature writer and editor of the writings of Thoreau. See Bradford Torrey for more information. A true biography of Bradford Torrey seems not to exist.

John Torrey (1796-1873) was a botanist and chemist known for his extensive studies of North American flora. My familiarity with his name comes chiefly from his mention in Audubon to Xantus: The Lives of Those Commemorated in North American Bird Names, by Mearns and Mearns.

Torrey Pines State Reserve, north of San Diego, is named for the Torrey Pine tree, which was named for John Torrey.

Bradford was born at Weymouth, Massachusetts, while John was born (and died) at New York City. Bradford died at Santa Barbara in 1912, after living as a reclusive in a hotel. His burial location seems to be unknown.

As far as I can tell, these Torreys were not closely related.