Soft whispering of quail a sign property has come a long way A male quail being a lookout. (ERNIE COWAN) ERNIE COWAN Outdoors I could hear the whispers and it sounded juicy. If only I understood quail. It was an intimate moment with nature like I had never experienced before. Sitting motionless at the edge of the flowerbed I was listening in to the whispered conversations of feeding quail just a few feet away. The murmurings were hushed, almost inaudible. I’ve written before about the “muttering army” of quail that pass my bedroom window at dawn as they emerge from native cover and march to a nearby seed feeder. Their not-so-subtle cooing then is an almost daily alarm clock. This was the same sound, but I could almost not hear it. Had there been a wind or other noise the sounds would have vanished. The feeding quail were obviously close to each other with no need to be speaking loudly. This became an impromptu sit-and-see moment. I was out enjoying the morning sun and had pulled u...
Popular posts from this blog
Birds will head to Mexico for the winter By ERNIE COWAN While the civilized world seems to struggle in turmoil right now, the natural clock of ages faithfully ticks on. As another August slips from the calendar, the beat of nature goes on, and the happy visitors to my summer garden are hearing the call to launch them on a journey south. We can’t hear this call, but the hooded orioles do, and they are eagerly preparing to return to some preordained place in Mexico for the winter. These beautiful birds have added color, sound and joy to Mt. Whoville, as they have for thousands of other bird lovers throughout Southern California who provide food, water and nesting sites. A week ago, I began to notice fewer brightly colored males, and this week the males are gone. This is typical, with males leaving first, followed by females and the late-crop juveniles. For the past few weeks the orioles have been feeding aggressively at the nectar feeders, quibbling and cackling as they alway...
ERNIE COWAN Outdoors It was a wildlife encounter I can only describe as profound. I’ve photographed desert bighorn sheep many times over 50-plus years, but this adventure was one I will never forget. The summer heat was withering as I stepped from my vehicle in Anza-Borrego Desert State Park. Not only were temperatures well into the triple digits, but it was slightly after noon so there was no mercy from the pounding midday sun. I came with high hopes of finding bighorn sheep in one of the desert canyons that has perennial water. These isolated sources of water are a thin lifeline for the animals who live in this arid place. The air temperature alone was bad enough, but I could feel even more heat radiating off the light-colored desert sand as I followed the dusty trail. Movement caught my eye. A jackrabbit? They are not typically active in midday summer heat. I stopped on the trail and suddenly a massive desert bighorn ram pushed through a thicket of...
Comments
Post a Comment