Expect the Unexpected

Cedar Waxwing

The admonition, “expect the unexpected,” works well whether you’re fishing, fighting a war or birding. It even provides a fairly good guideline for blind dates.
Birders seem to take it as a matter of course that when you set out to see one thing, you're often rewarded with something else, maybe something you don’t expect. Unless, and it’s a big unless, you’re carrying a camera. Then, there’s a strange, inverse, unwritten, little-understood rule that applies: The bigger the camera you’re carrying, the less likely you are to see whatever it is you set out to see. Something like that.
So it was this afternoon when I set out, loaded with camera gear, to get some pix of newly arrived Red-winged Blackbirds. I really enjoy these noisey little guys, sharp black suits with red and yellow epaulets, constantly advertising for a mate, defending the nest territory against any and every thing. It’s strange how, in the fall, you never see these birds depart. One day they’re out there in the wetlands squawking up a storm, the next they’re gone.


Eastern Bluebird

Similarly, in the spring, one day it’s quiet along your usual walk, the next there’s a racket that can only mean one thing, the boys are back in town—and welcome back fellers, there’s a lot of quiet space out here that needs to be filled.
Saturday there was not a Red-winged Blackbird to be seen, Sunday they were all over the place and I did not have a camera. I planned to get some pix on Monday, but then the sky opened and the Cuyahoga River jumped its banks by a whopping 22.7 feet, second highest flood stage since someone started keeping records.
So today was the day, bright, sunny, crisp, some high cirrus clouds, light winds. A day filled with promise. As I started down the bike/hike trail near my house I realized something was missing. Not a blackbird to be heard. I thought I detected one calling way off. A half mile into my walk and still not a peep, or aarrraaakkkkk, as it were. Things were not going according to my plan.
A mile into the walk I was having serious second and third thoughts about getting those blackbird pictures. I heard some rustling and high-pitched squabbling in the bushes behind me. I turned to see what all the chatter was and faced an estimated 50 Cedar Waxwings, eye level, paying no attention me.
Five minutes later a took my first breath. Whew! What a rush. Then Eastern Bluebirds got off the bird bus and flew into the bushes now vacated by the waxwings. There were not as many bluebirds, however, a little bit of that azure color goes a long way in the drab days of early March.
I turned at my 1.5 mile spot and headed for home, thoroughly satisfied, even without the Red-winged Blackbird photo I came for. Aarrraaakkkkk, right on cue he arrived. One bird. But one was all I needed.


Red-winged Blackbird