Thanks to all who commented about my mystery bird yesterday, and special thanks to Ruth, for the link. It was indeed a Ruddy Turnstone. I had temporarily lost my IDing mojo because I forgot one of the cardinal rules (pun intended) of birding: Just because you see a bird in a habitat or setting where it shouldn't be, doesn't mean it can't BE that bird. I never even considered that a shorebird like a Ruddy Turnstone (who should have been a several kilometers away at Point Pelee, poking around in the beach at the sandy Tip) would be in strolling through the grass in a public park, binging on midges like the starlings and grackles do. I can only add that this bird's Ruddy Turnstone plumage was a little mottled-looking, and not quite symmetrical on both sides of its body, and there have been a lot of strange birds and squirrels around here lately, but still...now that you've all added your expertise and I've seen more photos, I don't know how I missed this one!!
Tomorrow my BFF Sydney, whom I've mentioned here from time to time, is coming to visit for the week. The house is clean, everything is ready, and the cats have been admonished to be on their best behavior - to which they responded with those earnest attentive looks that translate as, "And will she be bringing food?" Sydney and I don't have any firm plans as yet; we'll kind of make it up as we go, but I wanted to let you know that I may not be posting very much over the week, and probably not visiting my blog friends as much either. I mean, catching up on everything back home in Alberta, shopping, going to the A&W vintage car cruise night, lunching at the restaurant with the outdoor koi pool, drinking Coronas and lime on the patio, solving the problems of the world...there's just an awful lot we need to accomplish! So I'll see you soon, my friends, take care one and all!
Photos top to bottom: Ruddy Turnstone, building in Black Diamond, Alberta, Leamington, Ontario sign.
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.