Pat Bean's blog

  “The Bluebird of Happiness long absent from his life, Ned is visited by the Chicken of Depression.” – Gary Larson

Three Choices 

Male mountain bluebird. Have you ever seen anything bluer? — Wikipedia photo

           North America has three bluebirds, an eastern, a western and the mountain bluebird. My tiny blue, glass figurine that represents the symbol of happiness — which is still hidden somewhere in the bins I stored away before taking to the road in my RV — most certainly represents the mountain variety. I hope I find it soon.

A mountain bluebird’s feathers, in my experience, are the bluest of blues. So blue that I was startled the day I first saw one. It seemed to sparkle in the cool, high mountain air where a recent snowfall had frosted the spruces and firs.

It was April 10, 1999. The day is etched in my memory because it was the day I began a passionate love affair with all birds – from the gigantic California condor, whose recovery from near extinction I have often wrote about, to the tiny calliope who once flashed me with its brilliant purple neck feathers.

This is an eastern bluebird that I photographed in the Natchez Trace as he sat on the rearview mirror of my RV. He’s cute, too, isn’t he? — Photo by Pat Bean

I’ve seen many mountain bluebirds since then, including at least 300 the time I was driving Highway 95 through the Glen Canyon Recreation Area. For about 10 miles of the drive, small flocks of the birds flittered along the roadside as I passed them by. I occasionally pulled off the road for a better look through my binoculars. The red-rock settings of the canyon made the blue feathers of the bird stand out — and glitter like stars on a dark night away from city lights.

Once, I participated in an Audubon check of bluebird boxes near the top of Monte Cristo in Northern Utah. During one of the nest box inspections, the leader of this long-term project was dive-bombed by two agitated bird parents as he unscrewed the top of the box so we could all check what was inside. I held my breath as I observed six baby mountain bluebirds with developing soft smoky gray feathers. It was truly a magical moment, especially when we all retreated and the parents saw that their babies were unharmed.

And so was the moment I had yesterday, when I observed my first mountain bluebird in the foothills of the Catalina Mountains, which are now my backyard.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: 23 Thorns http://tinyurl.com/qbdv4fk I started this blog because it was titled Baobab Tree. I can’t resist trees — or blogs about them. But the blog talked about a lot more than trees, including rhinos and fish eagles, and I was fascinated and charmed by the conversation, lengthy though it was – and with more to come. .