On Wednesday evenings, the local cinema shows “classic” films. We headed over to see The Princess Bride on the big screen — always fun. We then tried a new (for us) restaurant, the 3.14 Sweet and Savory Pi Bar. That has to be one of the worst names for a restaurant in the history of forever.
It was a more upscale place than we expected. Our pot pies were pricey but tasty. Mine had ground beef and blue cheese with Cajun spices. They rotate their pies, so not everything on the menu is available every night.
The servings were filling, so we got our key lime pie to go. It was also very good. We’ll be back. On our way home, we were treated to a beautiful sunset.
empidonax (from empis gnat, mosquito, and anax lord, master) hammondii (named for William Alexander Hammond, US army surgeon and naturalist)
Sunday, June 3, 2018 — 8:32 am
Cheyenne Mountain State Park, Colorado
I wrote a post recently on the difficulty of identifying Dusky and Hammond’s Flycatchers, both members of the Empidonax genus. But I still needed a Hammond’s on my life list, as well as a Cordilleran Flycatcher, another member of the genus. Both of them, and Dusky Flycatchers, have been reported this weekend from Cheyenne Mountain State Park, south of town, so I decided to try my luck.
I was hiking the Blackmer Loop through a stand of ponderosa pine with a thick understory of scrub oak.
I heard a song that I was pretty sure was a Hammond’s Flycatcher. I played the song on my phone and still thought it sounded like a Hammond’s. I played the song louder. Immediately, the bird flew through the woods toward me and landed on a bare scrub oak branch above the trail about 10 feet away. Before I got a photo, it flew into a ponderosa pine. This time it stuck around long enough for me to get a picture. It was obviously reacting to the song.
It flew back across the trail and disappeared. I continued along the trail, which wound up the hill, then curved above the area where I’d seen the bird. I heard the song again and spotted the flycatcher perched on the very top of a ponderosa near where I’d seen it a few minutes earlier.
I walked back down to try to get a better look. While I watched, it flew from the pine into the dead branches of a nearby scrub oak and began singing again.
I don’t know how I can be any more sure of the identification.
A Hammond’s Flycatcher was seen here the day before.
The bird I saw and heard sounded like the Hammond’s song on my birding app.
The song of the bird I saw and heard fit the description of the Hammond’s song on my app — seweep-tsurp-seep.”
The bird I saw had a distinct vest on its breast, it’s primary extension seemed long, it’s narrow tail was notched, and it was overall grayish.
Sibley says Hammond’s is “common in coniferous or mixed forests, usually perching high in tall trees. Generally chooses mature coniferous forest,” which is an exact description of the habitat where I saw the bird and of its behavior.
When I played a Hammond’s song, the bird flew through the woods right toward me and landed on a branch about 10 feet away, then into a nearby pine, obviously responding to the recording.
While I remain unconvinced that most birders can distinguish Hammond’s and Dusky Flycatchers, I do believe the birds themselves can. This bird definitely acted like I was “playing his song.”
Posted inWildlife|Comments Off on Bird #495 — Hammond’s Flycatcher
We went with friends to see Paul Simon’s one-night stop in Colorado on his farewell tour. The concert was at Fiddler’s Green in the south Denver suburbs. Our seats were in the center but well up from the stage. Still, they would have been good seats if they didn’t happen to be behind the only eight people in the entire crowd who insisted on standing the entire night. The four people in the row directly in front of us arrived drunk and spent the night getting drunker. One of the women did the same slinky dance, with the same tempo, to every song, no matter what it was or whether she knew it or not. In front of her was a chunky middle-aged woman and a stoner kid who even stood for Paul’s talking parts. I don’t mind people standing and singing for their favorites, but these people were ridiculous. I looked around the arena and saw that very few people were standing much of the time.
Paul Simon is looking old. He’s 77, the same age as my mother-in-law. He started with some of his familiar stuff, then spent much of the middle of the concert doing more recent stuff I’ve not heard. After the encore, he came back out and did another nine songs, including my favorite of his, You Can Call Me Al.
It was hard to enjoy the concert because of the jerks in front of us. But I can say that I saw one of the legends.
Here’s a mash-up of video I took during the night, including one bit that showed our actual view through the idiots.
On Monday we drove home from Durango. We headed north through the mountains, near the route we took on the train the day before. We stopped briefly in Silverton. The road was stunning, and the views went on for more than 40 miles. In places, there was no shoulder with very steep drop-offs.
We drove through Ouray and headed into the plains. I spotted a cinnamon-colored Black Bear with a cub next to the road on the other side of a fence. I made a quick U-turn. It had moved back a little, but we got a few shots before they disappeared into the trees.
Posted inColorado|Comments Off on Million Dollar Highway
