This publication was executed for the first time in March 2022.
A few days ago, a friend sent me a text message that a red flow blue had been seen a couple of miles where I live. I had to look for what a red flow blue was. It turns out that the Bluetail flanked by red, also known as the theft of orange bushes, is a small singing bird with red flanks (or orange flanks, I suppose, depending on who is looking?) And a blue tail (which is not always a big problem?). More specifically, the species usually varies in Asia and Europe, so in the Seattle area it is a rarity.
The news of the Bluetail left me largely still. I really like birds, since the people who know me know, but I do not pursue oddities. I have no deep philosophical reason for this. I am only lazy, and the idea of jumping around the suburbs for hours just to be among the hordes of looks right this side of a line of ownership of Schlub so that I can look at a distant spot on the bushes is not why I put on the notice.
Thinking about a second thought, there could be a little philosophy that goes up to my disinterest studied.
It is not that you rule out oddities out of control. A pair of male Euroasy wigs, a kind of duck that is a weird but reliable visitor from East Asia, have been hanging out with the resident flock of American Bigoons in a nearby park in recent years. Every time I am there, I look for their reddish heads between the sea of green and brown heads that is Wigeon’s flock, since everyone makes their way on the grass. I can’t deny the little flare of delight that I feel when I see the two men walking, strangers in a strange land.
At least in the park I have an idea of what I am looking for. I am impressed that someone had the media not only to notice the blue-flanked bluetail by red (or bush-robin), but also to know what it was. I cannot guarantee that it would have been equal to the occasion if the bluetail appeared in my patio. I have lived on the western slope of the Cascade range during most of my life and I am quite familiar with its avifauna, but over the years there have been many losses and street squeaks that I did not bother you beyond thinking, Huh, that sounds different; Or strange flashes for the corner of the eye that I never took the time to track.
However, I like to think that my general experience has been enriched, even if I never solved those mysteries in an academic sense.
Sometimes I wonder how many rare birds I have been in the presence without knowing it. Given the way the birds move around the world, I suppose a few. If I were so inclined, I could try to solve it. There are algorithms for this kind of thing. I COULD ENTER MY PARAMERERS, AND THE TRICKSTER GODS OF PROBABILITY WOLD SPIT OUT THE ODDS OF, SAY, A FEMALE RED-FLANKED BLUETAIL (OR ORANGE-FLANKED BUSH-RUBIN) FLYING ABOUT NEAR THE COAST OF CHINA OR JAPAN AND GETTING TO MIGRATE TO MIGRATE TO MIGRAT WHEN IS ISDENDENLY SWEPT UP IN A STORM AND BLOWN OUT TO SEA, AND SHE flaps and flaps, exhausted, she eats upon to Freight Heading East, and She Alights on This Savior Ship And Sails Over The Pacific To The Salish Sea Waters, She Sees A Dark Forest On A Foreign Shore, So She Dissembarks and Flies into the Trees, but rather than counciling hest Bookstore i offen visit, and which I was planning to go in tomorrow, to have a cup of coffee.
Those chances have to be varies small, right? I mean, narrowing the eyes and what we are really talking about is a miracle. This little bird somehow came here from Asia. Practically at my door. And I will be awake that way. So, maybe just a quick look. It would be a fool not to do it.
Photo of a red flank bluetail taken in Japan in 2013 by Alpsdake, courtesy of Creative Commons.
#Redux #Rare #birds
