The great annual bird blog

You know you’re getting older when you start to like seagulls.

I never thought much of them before. After all, they hang around garbage dumps. They steal your French fries. They drop disgusting things on you.

But when I saw them this last March, flying above the street after a Saskatchewan snowstorm, I admired their resilience. Most importantly, I knew spring was not too far away. (In our case, a mere two months away.) 

Crows, on the other hand... Nothing to like about them. Sure, they clean up carcasses on our streets (I’m sorry, but roadkill happens – just ask my daughter about the traumatic “pigeon incident” last Thursday). That part is good. They play a critical role in the circle of life. But I really don’t like it when they use our bird bath to assist them in carrying out this role. Along with all the bread, nuts and salami marinating in the water, I also find the remains of small dead animals. How to prevent this? In lieu of a scarecrow, I take to running out into the yard screaming and throwing rocks.

[By the way, this is a bird blog, so I apologize to all you non-birders who have no interest whatsoever, but I promise this is going to get interesting.]

Unlike crows, house finches are welcomed in our front yard. At this time of year, we’re down to one pair, but I eagerly await August when all the little ones will join them, fighting for a chance at our feeder.

But the big prize this year – the one that makes me so proud as a father, a homeowner, and bird enthusiast – is the regular visitation of two yellow warblers. While these birds won't eat at a bird feeder, they have come to enjoy our water fountain for bathing. I really like these birds. They don’t have much of a song, but they are just so – how to say this in the manliest way possible – adorable. The fact that these little twerps travel thousands of kilometres from South America every year to enjoy our Prairie summer is enough to earn my admiration.

Here are some other birds I’m keeping an eye on this year:

Brown thrashers. They’re not always easy to spot – a bit larger than a robin with a long tan tail – but they have an incredibly unique song that sounds like the rattling off of a hundred different keyboard sounds. It sounds something like ta-ta-doo-dah-la-la-la-ridididaw. Now I realize bird songs don’t translate very well into English, but show some patience as I competently assist you in song identification.

Grey catbirds. Similar to the brown thrasher, their song, when not meowing like a cat, is like listening to a small child playing on Garage Band. At times, it sounds like coo-doo-la-cah-da-ta-da-dee-da-da!

Warbling vireos. These rather plain looking birds – grey with some white accents around the eye – have a pleasant song that sounds like diddly-diddly-da-da-da.

Red-eyed vireos. While even tougher to spot because of how high up in trees they perch – I've yet to lay eyes on one – they make a dull two- to three-note song that is broadcast relentlessly throughout the day that sounds like taa-taaah-daaah, taa-taaah-daaah.

Baltimore orioles. When we first got into birding, the great prize was to spot these elusive black and orange birds that are not in fact from Baltimore, but rather the Bahamas (I really have no idea). What I do know, thanks to Wikipedia, is that their name stems from their colours that resemble the coat of arms of the 17th Century British nobleman, Lord Baltimore. And, in our monarchical Queen City of Regina, they are more common than we initially thought. All it took was for us to identify their unique call that sounds like calew, calew, toodily-do.

Again, these are approximations of how these birds sound. While I would suggest using a bird identification app, it should give you a good start.

Happy birding!

Me and my yellow warbler

Headaches over Hormuz

 

 Is the Strait of Hormuz open or closed? 

For the last few months, this is all I really want to know. 

Just give me a simple yes or no. I don’t want to know how many drones flew over the channel, how many ships are waiting in port, or how the captains of those ships are feeling about life. Just tell me: Is it open or closed?

Whatever you do, don’t tell me it’s partially open. What am I supposed to do with that? I refuse to believe a few lucky ships go freely back and forth without a care in the world. We all know the world doesn’t work that way. It’s either open or closed!

The inevitable follow-up question is: Why didn’t I buy a hybrid? I could have but I didn’t. Because when I did my cost-benefit analysis, the Strait of Hormuz was wide open!

Second follow-up question: Why does my car get worse fuel mileage now that the Strait is closed? Does non-Iranian fuel not go as far?

This may be part of my obsessive personality. I start thinking about something and I can’t stop. But isn’t it that way for all of us (please say yes)? Don’t we all obsess over the price of gas?

Unless you own a Tesla... Then who cares whether the Strait is open or closed. I suppose you got the last laugh after all. I admit, we went a bit too far in our mockery. Remember how only a few months ago we would taunt: “You drive an Elon-mobile?! How utterly embarrassing!!” Even though you clearly bought the car when Elon Musk was an Obama-loving liberal and not a Trump stooge, we did not care! Sell it NOW!

But who looks like the stooge now? Anyone who drives a vehicle that relies on fuel impacted by the so-called Strait of Hormuz.

I only say “so-called” because I had never heard of this "strait" until a few months ago, when the so-called “Iran War” began. For all I know, it’s a vast conspiracy of the oil companies who, at the behest of Iran and Trump, sold the world on the closure of a made-up channel of water that is rich in oil, helium and fertilizer.

But let's say it is real. Let’s say there is a strait, somewhere far away in Hormuz, that was open for all my lifetime.... and then, just like that, suddenly closed. Why would it ever close? 

Trump of all people should know this, but I don’t think he does, as intelligent a man as he says he is. That doesn't mean he doesn’t care. He says he doesn’t care, but boy, does he care! He’s checking every hour – maybe every three minutes. Like me, he’s obsessed over Hormuz.

In all fairness, it’s hard to be a president in such times of utter incompetence and dysfunction. Especially when you start a war that no one understands, a war that will likely never end. I don’t blame him for being a little feisty with female reporters. He’s got a lot on his plate. First Epstein, now Iran. How do you juggle it all?

Even if it was his fault, doesn’t he at least get some credit for trying to solve the so-called Middle East? For inadvertently starting a green revolution? For making Tesla owners feel a little better about themselves? 

As I’m clearly not one of them, I still want to know: Is it open or closed?

Best years of life ranked with sentimentalism

 
 

The best year of my life was when I met my wife. Let’s be clear on that. My most life-changing experience was when I met my life partner. Got that?

But… a close second was grade 10. Grade ten! I’m excited because I recently saw a picture of myself at that age. It brought back memories.

I may remember it better than it really was.… But I honestly cannot recall a bad thing that happened to me in grade 10. Other than my obsession with a girl who didn’t have the same feelings for me – apart from that whole hormone-driven fiasco – grade 10 was awesome.

I bonded with friends whom I have never shared a closer connection. We united over our beliefs in God, our rejection of materialism, and our love of U2. We were as close to hippies as one could be without the drugs.

Strangely, I have not kept up these relationships. We moved apart and I don’t really talk to them anymore. I don’t even know where most of them are today. Even though they may lurk on Facebook (confirmation: they do), I don't feel the urge to reach out to them. I’d rather remember them for who they were, for the close attachment we had at the time. In fact, I doubt such closeness could ever be recreated. I’m likely making this sound waaaay better than it was, but allow me this once to look back fondly at the good ol’ days.

My third best year? Probably grade 12. It was fun. Not as fun as it could have been if I had a girlfriend, but we had fun. I missed my 20-year and 30-year high school reunions, but that's not because I didn't enjoy my time in high school. It’s just... I’d rather remember everyone for who they were, for the close attachment we had at the time – I doubt that closeness could ever be recreated. Notice a theme?

What about elementary school, you ask? I’m not sure it can rival high school, as turbulent as that period of my life was. There’s something about those years that make me a little sentimental. And I don’t get sentimental. Got that?

And so, it was with great sadness, that I read about the unhappiness of our youth. You may have heard: this year Canada ranks 24^th in the world for happiness. And it’s the youth who are dragging us down. They are unhappy with things, and they don’t hesitate to tell the world how much things suck.

Thanks, kids! Thanks for ruining our otherwise stellar reputation!

If youth are really that unhappy, well then, I gotta tell you, it doesn’t get much better. You’ll just keep going down that U-shaped valley until middle age, where (I’ve been told) you hit rock bottom, then (I've been reassured) you slowly start to feel better again. This is all by design, so that by age 80, you’re having the best years of your life.

But if you’re already stuck at age 20, then might I suggest getting off TikTok?

It can't be good for any kids’ mental health when everything is now online. Our social lives, our finances, and every blog post (gulp) could live on forever. We keep our heads in our phones without simply hanging out.

For those of us who didn’t grow up online, we got the best of both worlds – childhood with imagination and adulthood with Facebook – but for those who grew up with everything on their phone, maybe it wasn’t so good for them?

Social media is clearly a part of the problem. But I too went through periods of depression and loneliness at a young age, so it’s not hard to imagine feeling down. It’s no easy slog to have to be independent for the first time, not to mention learning how to function in this increasingly educated, automated world. I mean, just learning internet banking is a feat unto itself.

I’m struggling to come up with a coherent thesis because there isn’t one easy answer. In truth, it could be a multitude of factors made worse by technology.

One thing is for sure, the Baby Boomers are doing just fine. As per usual, they are milking life for all it’s worth. Just waiting, with anticipation, to begin the best years of their lives: their 80s.