Bird of a Different Feather

Someplace I read the definition of good luck is the point at which preparation intersects opportunity.

Southern California has been all abuzz this past week with talk of the space shuttle Endeavour coming to town as a permanent display at the California Science Center. This morning the LA Times had a list of spots where you might be able to see the shuttle as it piggybacked in on its 747 carrier.

Susan and I had a passing interest, however, standing around with crowds to see something fly by at several hundred miles per hour did not seem like a good use of our morning. Besides, we were determined to find, or refind I should say, a little brown bird that has eluded us twice since our initial sighting at Los Carneros Lake a couple weeks ago.

Nearing 11:30, our stomachs gnawing on our backbones, we decided that the elusive, nameless, bird was going to remain just that. We’re running out of time to bag that bugger. We’ve about given up hope of finding it.

Susan wisely suggested having lunch on the beach at nearby Goleta, a good birding spot as well. While Susan ordered up the chow, I noticed a bunch of photographers down at the beach and even more lined up along the rails of the pier. It took a minute to register—the space shuttle had to fly right by on its way from San Francisco to Los Angeles. While Susan was paying for the eats, I spotted the silver bird off to the north. What I expected to be a flash-by turned into a slow drive-by. One of the fellows near me said it was flying at between 250-275 miles per hour. It seemed slower.

Escorted by two fighter jets, the Boeing 747 and its cargo drifted south, high above the Brown Pelicans and gulls. In true American style, a woman standing behind me said, “Let’s hurry home so we can watch it on TV.” Reality TV might be the ruin of us all.