Warblers and Sparrows

Birding was still slow at Theler Wetlands in Belfair Friday, though there did seem to be a few more warblers and sparrows than the week before, hopefully a sign that we will soon be greeting Cedar Waxwings and ducks as they head South.

At first I thought that this was the first picture I’d ever gotten of a a Savannah Sparrow, but it turns out I had taken one earlier in the year that I’d forgotten about. Still, it was exciting seeing a flock of them warming themselves on the railing:

Savannah Sparrow

I didn’t recognize this bird when I first saw it, and I’m still unsure that it’s merely a Song Sparrow Variant, but after an hour or so of research I have to conclude that that is what it is, even though it looks an awful lot like what Sibley calls a California Song Sparrow and very little like the song sparrows I’ve taken so many pictures of before.

Unusual Song Sparrow

Now I know why so many birders refer to these guys as LBJ’s, especially when the author of my identification books says that there are over 30 different subspecies of the song sparrow.

I had nearly as much trouble identifying this little yellow warbler, which I think is the “Gray-headed form” of the Orange-Crowned Warbler, an identification based as much on the fact that it was feeding on blackberries as on its looks.

Orange-Crowned Warbler

If so, it is the first picture I’ve ever taken of one, though it’s entirely possible that I’ve labeled on a Yellow Warbler before.

After nearly a week devoted to fence building hunting and trying to identify elusive warblers and sparrows while walking six miles was a welcome break.

Pt. Defiance Dahlias

As I guessed a couple days ago, the Dahlias were beautiful at the Pt Defiance Gardens today, though a few still haven’t started to bloom because of the cool, wet summer. Those that were in bloom seemed to have taken center stage, though, because they roses generally seem past their prime.

Though they’re not necessarily my favorite, the pom-pom dahlias stood out today, particularly this delicate white and purple one,

White With Purple Pom-Poom Dahlia

this pink one,

Pink Pom-Pome Dahlia

and this yellow and gold one, which probably wouldn’t be classified as a pom-pom, but I’m sure not enough of an expert to tell you which variety it is.

Yellow-Orange Dahlia

Luckily, all I have to do is admire their beauty.

As I said, many of the roses seemed past their prime, but there are still enough new ones emerging

Yellow-Orange Rose

all the time that it’s still well worth your while to take a stroll through the garden, particularly on a sunny day like today.

A Real Labor Day Weekend

Our Labor Day weekend began rather unexpectedly, as the roofers showed up early Saturday morning to put on our new roof. Three of them finished the roof in just under eight hours. I was quite impressed with their professionalism and their dedication to their work. It took me almost that long to repair a small section of the roof after a huge wind storm two years ago, and I could barely stand up by the time I’d finally finished it. I thought $3,400 for a new roof was a real bargain considering how long it would have taken me to finish it.

The next day Leslie and I started on another job that’s been hanging over my head since last year’s wind storm. Since our YMCA will be closed most of this week and next week, I decided it was a good time to finally repair the fence that I’ve been promising to repair for a little over a year now.

We spent most of Sunday shopping for supplies, probably because it’s been too long since we’ve been to Home Depot. We not only bought most of the supplies for the fence but also a new curtain for the Dining Room window, plumbing supplies to clean a semi-clogged bathroom drain, sprinkler heads for the drip irrigation system, and shopped for a front door lock before deciding that we couldn’t decide on the lock we wanted. Since I have to put a leash on Skye to let him out, we waited until Monday morning to actually start working on the fence. So we proceeded to hang the curtain, and free the drain.

Everything started well Sunday morning, especially since I had a chop saw to dismantle the fence so that we could reuse most of it. I was optimistic that I could have the fence back up by Tuesday afternoon. Foolish me. I should have know better. We encountered some fence posts that couldn’t be gotten out easily. In fact, we ended up renting a jack hammer for four hours to split the concrete around the posts in order to get them out. Working four hours with a jack hammer is a great reminder of how tough manual labor really is. By the end of the day, I had managed to get all the old fence down, but that’s all.

So I spent all day today, after I dragged my aching body out of bed at 8:30, putting new fence posts and railings in. I was quite sore from the day before, but this part went well compared to the day before, and I hope to have the dog’s fence back up by the end of the day tomorrow.

Watching someone who’s an expert at their trade work like the roofers and having to spend several days doing manual labor were a good reminder that all work is valuable, that all work is demanding in its own way, and that all work, especially physical work, deserves a decent salary.

Of course, having put myself through college working half time as a janitor and full time summers filling oxygen cylinders, I’ve always respected blue collar work. Hell, the main reason I went to college was so that I wouldn’t have to spend my whole life earning my living by the sweat of my brow.

R.S. Thomas’ “Arrival”

I’ve finally come to the place in Collected Poems 1945-1990 where it overlaps the first book of R.S. Thomas I read, Collected Later Poems 1988-2000. So with this poem I’ll end my current discussion of his poetry, though I may very well return to it in the future. I’m still amazed that with all the college poetry classes I’ve had I’ve never read his poetry before, nor is he represented in any of my various collections of poetry, at least as far as I’ve discovered so far.

I’ve been impressed with his poetry, as you can probably tell, and more than a little amazed at that. Hopefully you’ve been impressed enough to also explore his poetry.

I suppose that this poem might even serve to symbolize my reaction to his poetry:

ARRIVAL

Not conscious
that you have been seeking
suddenly
you come upon it

the village in the Welsh hills
dust free
with no road out
but the one you came in by.

A bird chimes
from a green tree
the hour that is no hour
you know. The river dawdles
to hold a mirror for you
where you may see yourself
as you are, a traveler
with the moon’s halo
above him, whom has arrived
after long journeying where he
began, catching this
one truth by surprise
that there is everything to look forward to.

I’ll have to admit that I’ve had this exact feeling several times in my life, most recently when I returned to the Puget Sound, at least the parts of it that haven’t become too citified. But there are other more remote areas, high up in the Cascades that have struck me the same way and places at the coast where you can almost feel eternity’s pull on you.

Like Thomas, I’m most apt to find my higher self reflected in nature.