June 21, 2022, Summer Solstice This morning I suffered a bout of rarebirditis. An infection probably caused by my recent sighting of the orange-billed nightingale-thrush, a first state record for Arizona, and the hordes of contagious birdwatchers who descended on the Big Yard. It didn’t help that I was the only one exposed to it.
Not rare in these parts, but I saw a bullocks oriole north of Fort Collins, Co, on a bike ride yesterday. (I was on the bike, not the oriole.) Which reminds me of a delirious two-week period, after a late spring snowstorm in the Rockies in 2019, when both bullockses and western tanagers were visiting our feeders. It was a technicolor explosion in our backyard.
Not rare in these parts, but I saw a bullocks oriole north of Fort Collins, Co, on a bike ride yesterday. (I was on the bike, not the oriole.) Which reminds me of a delirious two-week period, after a late spring snowstorm in the Rockies in 2019, when both bullockses and western tanagers were visiting our feeders. It was a technicolor explosion in our backyard.
Ha ha, I totally get it! So easy to get sucked into rarebirditis. A lovely post. Hope the rains do fill your wells.