Hello friends! After a long stretch of being stretched too thin, I’ve decided to focus on photos and not worry much about the writing for a few weeks. It’s my way of coming back into balance. Hopefully, my day job will stop taking up so much extra time soon. Fall migration is too much fun to miss, and I’d rather show you than talk too much anyway!
Spring migration is all business, with birds passing through quickly and getting to their breeding grounds. It’s about birdsong, fancy party clothes (also known as “breeding plumage”), and a mad rush of exhilaration. Fall migration, on the other hand, is long and languid and highlighted by wandering birds that go out of their ranges. I’m so excited to show you the first wandering bird that showed up in my little patch of the world!
I was watching turkey vultures on Wednesday when another vulture came flying in. I knew right away he was different, but I missed capturing him in the air. Fortunately, he landed and then hung out a long while so I could get to know him. Meet the black vulture!
You can see the difference in coloring and in their heads above. The black vulture has a much shorter tail. What I saw in flight was that he was all black underneath except for the outer portion of his wings, which flashed silver. I stayed as long as I could, hoping he would fly again, but alas, he was too content to preen on the branches. Maybe he will hang around, and I will get an in-flight photo in the future! Here are some comparison shots between the two species:
Black vultures are typically found in the southern part of North America as well as South America. He is not far out of his range, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen one. It isn’t often I get to see a bird here for the first time anymore!
Vultures are always a big part of September and October for me, so expect more photos of them in the weeks to come!
I have a totally self-serving question for all of you. I have 10 Audible credits that are about to expire, so what good books can you recommend? I need to know!
I read a poem from Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer called “Dear Mr. Whitman” that spoke right to my soul. It started like this:
“I want to hear America singing
all those varied carols you mentioned.
But it’s noise now, Walt, more shouting
than song. As if volume makes a leader.”
May the equinox help us all find equilibrium and steady ground.
Your black vulture photos made me smile. Thank you! I hate to toot my own horn, but if you're interested in listening to a memoir read by the author (me), I'm told that Bless the Birds is a good listen!
The Frozen River, by Ariel Lawhon. This is historical fiction based on the extraordinary life of Martha Ballard. She lived during the 1700’s, and kept a diary of her life as a midwife and healer. Many women didn’t learn to write then, much less keep a diary. She lived not far from where I live in mid-coast Maine. I have been to the courthouse where she spoke on behalf of some of her neighbors. I also have to mention that Alexa (writer below) is my daughter, and she is who introduced your Substack to me!