Midges, pelicans, hawks, black tipped seagulls, ducks, geese, cranes, and more tiny birds hiding in the grasses serenading us with gobbles, chirps, whirrs, and caws: more flying life than you can imagine, including a least a gazillion hungry mosquitoes. (I hold most of God's creation in high regard, and although I don't really like spiders, I always warn them not to be hanging there when I return, but the dreaded skeeter is different. I kill them on sight. Their incessant buzzing, their indecent treachery, and their disgusting penchant for biting, then sucking warm blood from spots unseen and unfelt until the itching begins, makes them, in my view, the most horrid of God's creation. Their only virtue may be that they're good bird food. And while I'm at it, the thing I hate even more than their blood sucking bite, is their swarming. Oh, how I detest mosquitoes.) But I love birds, and Bear River is a migratory refuge for birds of all kinds. We're just a bit early to see the long necked trumpet swans that stop here in November, but we did see a small flock on our drive down yesterday. It gave us hope that they may arrive early, but none were to be found today. But this morning we saw many other birds: some in flight, some swimming, many hiding so we could merely sense their presence from their sound. We scared a number who rushed from the reeds in a swoosh. We scattered a few ducks who wiggled their butts across the top of the water, half swimming, half running to the safety of reeds across the way. We even saw quite a few birds on our tandem ride out, swooping, fluttering, and soaring on the wind. It's twelve miles or so from Brigham City out to the start of the Auto Tour. The tour tract itself is twelve and a half miles of gravel road that circles about one tenth of the entire preserve. The Bear River flows from the mountains down to help form a great delta West of the Great Salt Lake. If you have never stopped, it's well worth your time. The weather gods were kind to us today. We got our tandem ride in between rain showers and before a steady breeze of about 18 knots kicked up. It was a good morning. After lunch, I tinkered with the bike, since it sat idle on the back of my pick up all last week. Like a farmer, I like rain on my terms. Last week the bike got drenched several times, but unlike beans and hay, which need fair weather to dry, the bike simply rusts, regardless of the weather. It welcomed a little cleaning and lubing. While I did that, my bunny went to wash the truck, which is a thankless effort that makes her feel better (It also makes the truck look better--for a short while). So, tomorrow when we head down the road to our next adventure, we'll be a little cleaner. This just in! Judy grumbled as just as she got back, "Well, it was a piss, poor job of a car wash, but I did get about three acres of mud off the wheel wells". No matter, it still makes her feel good, thankful for small pleasures, even the poor ones, and we appreciate that life is good, especially today.
Check that biker babe out in her "yoga" pants.
Notice the wire spikes. I'm not sure if they're there to help or hinder the mud nests, which are simply works of art.
So many worlds. Wouldn't it be nice to know the names of the grasses, and which bird species they attract.
The auto tour road. I'm half tempted to go back at dusk to see a few flocks fly in for the night.
Art shot of the day.
There's water, water, everywhere, and small islands of tall grasses, too.
This, I believe, is part of the Bear River channel.
And there it goes, on its way to the Great Salt Lake.
Greatly wishing we were with you on the refuge!!!
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