Wow! Grateful. On 11/30 my book ranked #2 in Indigenous Political Science
And look! The first two libraries to acquire the ebook! Thank you University of Manchester and Edith Cowan University!
As of 12/6/2025 more libraries have gotten a copy of my book:
Thank you to these libraries: Montclair State University , Library of Congress, Monroe County Community Ccollege, Butler University 🙂
Also these libraries:
Thank you to these libraries: Life Pacific University, University of Manchester (they were among the first), Kortext, Bloomsbury Publishing LLC, University of Groningen.
Thank you to these libraries: University of Marburg, Edith Cowan (among the first!) and Ebook library in Claremont, Australia 🙂
Can you all tell I have a special love for librarians and archivists?
Great news! I have recently signed a book contract with Louisiana State University Press for my manuscript titled Pest Control: Birds, Black Folk, and the History of Environmental Consciousness in the U.S. South. It will be complete in December 2027.
I am thrilled.
From my proposal:
Over the past two decades, there has been a growing recognition that human-environment entanglements have been insufficiently explored, not only in the natural sciences but also in the humanities. The emergence of the environmental humanities, critical avian studies, Anthropocene studies, and similar fields underscores the vast amount of work required to comprehend humanity’s relationship with avian life and habitats. This is particularly true for birds, their ecosystems, and the various phenomena associated with them, which, despite being central to human history, culture, and existence, have often been overlooked in discussions about cultural and social formation, sustainability, and justice — until now.
Tentatively titled Pest Control: Birds, Black Folk, and the History of Environmental Consciousness in the United States South, my book uncovers the pivotal roles enslaved individuals played—not just as rice cultivators, but as knowledgeable stewards of wildlife, particularly in managing Bobolinks, the rice birds that threatened profits for enslaving plantation owners.
In this narrative I embark on an exploration of the dynamic interplay between Black folk, wildlife, and the environment against the backdrop of the American South’s historical land use and agricultural practices. Focusing on the Lowcountry of South Carolina, I will uncover the manifold roles that enslaved individuals played, not only cultivating rice but also managing the Bobolinks, the rice bird that threatened enslaving planter’s harvest. This narrative highlights the resilience of enslaved communities and their evolving relationship with the land, both before and after emancipation. This book will also address the broader implications of a region that has prioritized large-scale agriculture over wildlife conservation. By examining concepts such as sharecropping, pasture conflicts, and the historical ties between farming, deforestation, and changes in wildlife habitats in the southeast, this book sheds light on the emerging divides and redivides of Black folk’s ecological consciousness, economic inequality and complex legacies of land use that continue to shape our environmental relationships today.
MORE NEWS:
My planned giving to the Tompkins County SPCA of Ithaca, New York has transformed into a beautiful way that my Angel Child shall be remembered.
An animal holding room will be named in his memory.
Animals are the purest forms of being still left on this chaotic Earth, it is a real blessing to assist, and a testament to mutual respect for my son to be honored.
Grateful.
I talk about some of these developments on my podcast
Sufi philosophy suggests that death is akin to a reconnection—a joyous reunion for those who lived their lives in unity and love. This imagery resonates deeply as I think of my precious child, who embodied pure love and exuberance. In the Sufi view, death is a return to the divine source, a way to merge with the endless love of the universe.
While my heart aches with longing, I remind myself that my child’s existence was a beautiful gift. Ricky brought light into my life, into his sister Chastity’s life, my parents,his grandparents (maternal and paternal), and aunts, uncles, and cousins. Ricky may no longer walk this earth, yet I believe his spirit has embarked on a new journey, one that is filled with peace, love, and unity with the Divine.
As I navigate this painful path of loss, this year all the way from Heredia, Costa Rica, I strive to remember the joyful moments we shared—each laugh, each hug, and every irreverent reaction we had together to 3am theatrical, charlatan televangelists on TBN. I am learning to celebrate the love that remains. While the physical presence may be gone, the bond we shared transcends the boundaries of life and death.
In this experience of profound grief, I am comforted by the hope that my child is now embraced in divine love, where pain and sorrow are no more. Their spirit is free, intertwined with the essence of all existence, reminding us that love never truly dies.
As I honor Ricky’s memory, I hold on to the belief that, one day, I too will experience that reunion—a reunion with my child, where we will once again celebrate the divine together. Until that moment arrives, I will cherish the love we shared, for it is the most beautiful gift that transcends even death.
My son’s legacy lives on through charity. I will forever be grateful to the Herbert T. and Marian S. Weston Foundation for sustaining the Ricky Dawkins Jr. Memorial Scholarship fund. My thanks to the Cohen family of Nebraska for this precious gift.
Feeling grateful today as I reflect on the impact of philanthropy and the importance of gratitude in our journeys. Last week, I found out about the incredible $10,000 donation from the Herbert T. & Marian S. Weston Foundation to my Angelchild’s Memorial Scholarship Fund.
As I approach my child’s Angel Date, I am honored to continue supporting two amazing organizations: Galeria E.V.A. in San Antonio, a sanctuary of Art, ancestral power, peace and liberation, and the SPCA of Tompkins County, which resonates deeply as I remember how much my son loved his furry friends as well as outdoor wildlife.
This journey of giving is how I keep my son’s legacy alive, and I am forever grateful to the Herbert T. & Marian S. Weston Foundation. #Gratitude #Philanthropy #Legacy #InMemoryOfMySon
August 3rd marks a traumatic milestone—it’s the fifth anniversary of my precious son’s ascension to Heaven. As I sit here reflecting on the past, I feel an overwhelming mix of love and sorrow. The loss will always feel heavy, and the pain doesn’t ease with time. Instead, it lingers. It resurfaces as vivid dreams and memories that play like a movie reel in my mind. Each moment is etched with down-to-the-minute clarity, and reliving the trauma can sometimes feel like I’m trapped in a whirlwind of torture.
In the days leading up I’ve found myself haunted by memories. The laughter we shared is comforting. His love for art is both comforting and painful. The way he always found magic in nature remains with me. I can almost hear his laughter echoing through the trees. I wish more than anything that he were here with me today. The pain is a constant companion. FULL STOP. It is always with me. It is only the Grace of God that the coping mechanisms found in birds and nature have saved me.
In honor of my son, I’ve made the decision to travel to Costa Rica on his day of Ascension. This journey is not just about escaping; it’s about seeking healing in a place where nature thrives, and beauty abounds. I hope to find comfort among the vibrant landscapes, much like he found joy in insect, squirrel, every blooming flower. Costa Rica’s lush rainforests and breathtaking beaches remind me of his spirit—a spirit that continues to shine brightly in everything around me.
As I prepare to navigate that day, I hold onto the memory of my little artist. I celebrate not only the love we shared but also the impact he had on everyone who knew him. He taught me lessons about embracing life and finding beauty in the details, and I want to honor that every single day.
Below find the birds who are keeping me until I depart:
As summer approaches, I find myself reflecting on my gardening journey from last year, particularly the chaos that ensued in my raised bed. It’s hard to believe how quickly time flies, but the lessons I learned during the last growing season are still fresh in my mind.
Last spring, I was filled with excitement and ambition as I planted a variety of seeds in my raised bed. However, what I didn’t anticipate was how much the way I spaced those seeds would impact the overall outcome. In my eagerness, I crammed them too close together, thinking they would thrive in the cozy environment. Instead, my garden transformed into a jungle of chaos, with plants vying for space and nutrients, creating an overwhelming scene of wild growth.
Fast forward to this summer, and I’m determined to apply what I learned from that experience. This time around, my goal isn’t perfection—it’s balance. I want to cultivate a space that is thriving but not overwhelming. I’ve spent time researching best practices for spacing plants, and I plan to give each one enough room to flourish without overwhelming its neighbors.
One of the most important lessons from last spring is the value of patience. Gardening is a process, and it requires time and care. I’ve realized that allowing plants the space they need leads to healthier growth and a more visually appealing garden. Additionally, I’ve discovered the importance of taking notes throughout the growing season. Tracking what works and what doesn’t can serve as a valuable reference for future seasons.
So, here’s to a summer dedicated to mindful gardening! I’m excited to put these lessons into practice, aiming for a raised bed that is manageable and beautiful. I can’t wait to share updates on my progress and, hopefully, showcase a garden that reflects the growth I’ve experienced—not just in my plants but as a gardener.
A Birdwatcher’s Paradise at My Parents’ House in Laurinburg, NC.
Nestled in the heart of Laurinburg, North Carolina just off Caledonia Road in the neighborhood of African Americans, my parents’ yard is a true haven for nature lovers. With a delightful assortment of trees—including several majestic maples, lush junipers, my cherished Angel child’s Memorial Live Oak, and a variety of fruitful trees—it’s no wonder that the area has turned into a bonanza for our feathered friends.
Today, I witnessed a beautiful congregation of birds at the base of the Red Maple Tree. It was heartwarming to see the camaraderie among them, from the striking Common Grackles to the cheerful Tufted Titmice and spirited Carolina Chickadees. The Mournful Doves cooed softly, the Chipping Sparrows flitted about, and the vibrant Northern Cardinals stood out against the greenery. Brown Thrashers were busy thrashing across the lawn in search of juicy crane fly larvae, their playful energy infectious.
Above, Northern Mockingbirds perched confidently, keeping a watchful eye to protect their territories. Meanwhile, Fish Crows cawed nasally from the treetops, adding their unique voices to the lively symphony. A Red-Bellied Woodpecker made its rounds, tapping rhythmically on the trees and adding to the vibrant atmosphere.
This enchanting scene at Red Maple Trunk Junction made me appreciate the simple joys of nature. It reminds us of the beauty that surrounds us and the importance of preserving these precious habitats. So, if you’re ever in Laurinburg, take a moment to pause and enjoy the chorus of life that thrives here—it truly is a place for reflection and wonder.
It was important for me to spend time out here as I will venture back to Ithaca, NY here soon for the remainder of the summer.
leggy rosebush. My mom says it has not bloomed in yearsMy son’s memorial Live Oak. See the Northern Cardinal?
Today I got a chance to observe the balcony birds from my Charlotte place. I observed VERY CLOSELY. Of course one reason was because I have to keep the squirrels from sampling the tray feeder “buffet” and to keep to their cracked corn and peanuts on the bottom of the feeding station.
The rain and overcast conditions did not stop me. And I am glad I persevered. Check out these pics.
Finishing my trade book took me back to the final months of my AngelChild’s time on Earth. Going through all those interviews with Great Dismal Swamp descendants, re-interpreting meaning, reliving the pandemic before the vaccine and confronting my evolving acceptance of life and loss was in itself a trial. Despite the struggle, I finished and I am proud of this achievement.
On a Heaven child’s birthday, we know that the object is to celebrate the beautiful memory and miracle of their birth. I love my son as much as the day I birthed him, as much as they day of funeral, and I love him still as a Spirit child in Heaven.✨ Celebrating You Today ✨
Today marks the birthday of my precious son, and while you may not be here with us, your spirit shines brightly in all the beauty around us.
You had an incredible love for art and nature, finding joy in every brushstroke and every blooming flower. I can almost hear your laughter echoing through the trees and see your vibrant imagination dancing in the colors of the sunset. 🎨🌻
On this special day, I honor the creativity and wonder you brought into this world. Your passion for life continues to inspire me and everyone who knew you. Thank you for the lessons you taught us and for the love that fills our hearts. You’re forever a part of our lives, my little artist in Heaven.
Today, I celebrate the love we shared and the beauty you still bring to this world. Happy birthday, my sweet boy! 💙✨ #ForeverInMyHeart #HeavenlyBirthday #CelebratingYou
I remember the very first time I heard the song “Birdland”. I was in sixth grade at I. Ellis Johnson Magnet School in Laurinburg, N.C. I was one of three Afro-descended students in A.G. We were annexed on the school’s west wing so that the bussed in affluent children would not interface with the non-A.G. horde but in three instances: Physical education, cafeteria, and special events.
Of course, the other two black academically gifted students and I knew the non-A.G. horde—they lived in our neighborhoods. Some were our distant relatives, but not mine.
My people were out of Gullah Country, SC. In N.C., my mother’s family, let’s just say, aged out of having kids or grandkids in middle school during my coming of age.
So I walked between two worlds—the affluent A.G. Euro-descended kids from the “nice” side of town and the people we saw every day simply by being outside. Preachers, teachers, number runners, gamblers, winos, uncles, aunts, and saints.
But that first day I heard “Birdland?”? It was a special event at our school. Mars Hill College jazz band had come to perform in the gymnasium. I was excited since I played a mean trumpet (ahem, 1st chair in 7th grade despite my enormous God-given lips). I wanted to hear the music that my baby Boomer-aged parents and older GenX siblings often played in the car on long journeys from Durham to UNC-Chapel Hill, where two of my siblings are alumni.
So there I sat, looking, listening and watching the band prepare the next composition.
I recall looking at my peers. Those big 8th graders were nearby!
One in particular, Ebonie Williams, a tall, shapely girl known to beat people up if they talked about her, looked uncommonly glum.
The word on the street was that she’d just been given ISS (in-school suspension) for pushing someone at recess. Clearly, she had had to teach that person a lesson! Sadly, though, she used violence to do so. Needless to say, she was not in a good mood, and her facial expression, despite the lively music, revealed a determined sulk and did not change.
All of a sudden, I noticed something. One of the trombone players got out of his seat and said, “Play Birdland!” Then, to everyone’s surprise, he got up from his chair, walked over, and extended his hand to Ebonie!!
Ebonie looked at him, smiled, and got up. Some preppy Mars Hill white guy in a necktie surely was no match for her moves! They literally did a ballroom dance to the music playing! They danced to Birdland.
The adolescent crowd ROARED!
Antoine, who always got in trouble, started doing backflips.
I was jamming, too. It was so fun.
THAT is my memory of Birdland.
But…
The song Birdland is not about birds, though. It is a musical homage to Charlie “Bird” Parker and the jazz club in NYC that bears his name. But as a kid, I was at the beginning of my knowledge of jazz standards. I knew Miles Davis, Ramsey Lewis, Herb Alpert, and David Sanborn, but I had much to learn.
So I drove the snowy roads of Dryden, Freeville, Lansing, and Brooktondale to find a few feathered friends. See them here:
Birdland was written by Jay Zawinul and performed by The Weather Report in 1977, two years before I was born.
So many people have covered the song, that for many years I had no idea who made it. Hell I thought the Gershwins wrote it LOL.
It has been a while. I have been birding like always, though not as consistently as I would like.
The United States 2024 election has been a shock to many, and there will be many adjustments for many people and institutions. As someone who has been raised to respect the democratic process, I have nothing further to add about the 2024 United States election, but best of luck to everyone, everywhere.
This has necessitated a need for me to reassess the usefulness of certain social media platforms. As much as I love Twitter, I have made the difficult decision to deactivate all my accounts there. I met so many great people in that space, but the sun has now set on my presence there.
I am still here on WordPress, I am still on my podcast site randomnaturepod.org. I am still on spatialhuman. And I am on Instagram too at Birdlady. You can view my Instagram by scrolling to bottom of this blogspace.
I am actually writing to you all from Houston airport. I was invited to speak at TAMU and after wrapping that up I drove down to Galveston to see some birds!
Here they are:
me on the day of presentation at Texas A & M which was the day after the election
The griever’s year aligns with sacramental time, ritualized through memory, legacy, struggle, pain, mourning, and an intense abiding love that penetrates the realms.
The day that my son passed away, I began my life in the After and each August 3rd since that painful day in 2020, I begin a new year.
This remembrance is painful and excruciating. You still feel the moment of separation down to the hours. The body responds. At that moment, I reached out for God.
I ask God to hold me. I beg God to remind that this a painful memory of the the not very distant past, yet it hurts like it is happening again.
I made it through this day. I spent it in Litchfield Beach, SC, Georgetown, SC, Laurinburg, NC, Charlotte NC all in a span of 36 hours. Constant movement, tears fall, sounds of music, doom metal, jazz metal, ambient metal capture the mood as beautiful images of birds, of water, of sky, of trees, flowers fill my vision field.
The Bobolink. Which I pronounce- BOE-BOE- Link. A bird that managed to elude my presence when I lived in Nebraska where they are commonly seen out on the prairies. I would see the bird profiled on Spring Creek Prairie Audubon waysides. So I knew what it looked like. But my first time seeing it in real life would not come until…3.5 years later in Tompkins County, New York.
Yes I saw it for the first time TODAY.
How did I know it was there, well ebird. Someone saw it on the 28th of June!
So I set out to find Summerland Farm Reserve. I managed to go to the wrong driveway at first, but the landowner kindly directed me to the public parking.
Sign for Summerland Farm Preserve!
When I arrived at the right spot, the entrance led to a densely wooded forest with damp surface as it rained last night. Immediately I began scanning for fungi and old tree stumps.
Soon I exited the forested area onto a gradual rise that revealed a large prairie on a hill. Many views of the region from that perspective too.
One of the great beauties of living in the Fingerlakes is the ability view the panorama of loveliness.
I’ll always love Ithaca. Just look at the views!Sedge in focus, background view de-emphasized
I noticed a blackish figure on a sign. I took my camera and zoomed in and THERE IT WAS!
The Bobolink. A he!
Folks who follow me on Twitter know that my friend Frederic Beaudry and I are working on a book about Bobolinks.
I had the pleasure of being invited to Black Birders Week programming this past May! Nicole Jackson, ecological and wildlife education extraordinaire, contacted me, and I was glad to accept!
The link for the recording:
Event Poster
Make sure to check out the programming from other illustrious speakers too!
Big shout to NYC Birders who are also twitter mutuals: Above 96th and Flaco/Geraldine and David Lei!
Flaco Eurasian Eagle Owl photographed by the inimitable David Lei, one of the many admirers and photographers of Flaco.
If you are still on twitter and want to continue viewing photos of Flaco, search ‘Flaco” or RIPFlaco and you will see all the loving birders and photographers who cherished him.
I haven’t updated in a while here and I am sorry. So much has been happening and I have found myself really getting into the thick of things with my new role at Cornell. Our team at Freedom on the Move received several grants that required some all hands on deck type sprints, so this resulted in me being slow to update.
In December I did a bit traveling for work. For one, I drove down to Suffolk, VA on December 6 to help celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Great Dismal Swamp National Wildlife Refuge. While there I made sure to stop at Chincoteague and bird my way back! I took the Chesapeake Bay way back up to Ithaca and some fresh looks at cool birds. Some lifers!
I even stopped in Delaware at Prime Hook. Amazing place. You must visit there!
A few days after my birthday (December 15) I had a work trip in Worcester, MA. While there I took a trip up to Provincetown, MA and got some bountiful photos of the Common Eider (male) and Red Breasted Merganser at Herring Cove Beach. MY GOD IT WAS COLD. The wind was 40mph and the temps after wind chill were an icy 19F. It was not an easy time to be in the wind! But I persevered for the birds.
Christmas Day in Ithaca was nice. The sun came out after being absent for some time. I hurriedly jumped in my car and got some photos!
As with all things my constant companion, grief, was there along the way and sweet and sometimes bittersweet memories crept into view of my son, my daughter and I at Christmas in Laurinburg, N.C. at my parents house, a place they both love/d. There were times of intense prostration crying out to God for peace and for grace.
Moments where nothing but the mercy of God above afforded the eventual pause for recognition of grace.
Enjoy the photos from December 2023.
Stay birdy.
Virginia
Delaware
Massachussetts
Ithaca
Christmas Day- Ithaca
My Birthday
Big shout out to: Matt Cohen, PhD, Anna Sims Bartel, PhD, Paul and Eileen G., Ed Baptist, Phd for birthday books/baskets/drinks/baskets/books.
Christmas Day
In close communion with God and my son’s memoryDecember 29, 2023, got my belated gift from mentor and friend. Ed Baptist, PhD
I am in the north for the first time in my life during fall migration.
Besides hearing about flamingoes being blown from Hurricane Idalia, and Limpkins turning up in Kentucky (which I saw one), and all other manner of strange happenings, here in Ithaca, I have been just as confused as everyone else.
Molts lasting longer than usual and generally just not knowing what to expect. Enjoy the photos. Keep birding everyone.
Hello all! It has been a while since I updated. In fact, the last time I updated was in May before I moved to Ithaca, New York. Recall that I am starting a postdoc here funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation working with Freedom on the Move with the amazing, kind, generous, and brilliant Ed Baptist.
Now before I got to Ithaca I took quite a convoluted route: I had work stuff in Louisiana, but stopped off in Columbus, MS to spend some time with my good friend Dhanashree and her two cats. Dhanashree then graciously watched my two cats Gimley and Woodstock during my short time in Louisiana.
Big thanks to my mentors and friends who treated me while I was traveling. Moving and driving with high fuel prices is expensive!
I then drove from Louisiana, back to Columbus, then to Laurinburg, North Carolina, my hometown where both my parents live. You may recall that is where my Angelson’s memorial live oak is located.
Northern Mockingbird in my Angelson’s Memorial Live Oak in Laurinburg, N.C. in my parents yard. There is a nest. Look in the bottom right of the photo.
I was in Laurinburg for about ten days before I headed to D.C. Suburbs/Maryland area. I was there for 4 days resting and looking for birds. Sadly this coincided with the Canada wildfires so many days there I had to be inside because of the air quality issues.
Finally on June 11, I drove up to Ithaca from Maryland. I share sights and birds from the journey.
Also, I LOVE ITHACA~!
St. John’s the Baptist Parish
St. John the Baptist Parish birds
above: Hometown birds of Laurinburg, N.C.
above: Birds of Maryland
above: From Williamsport, PA to New York State Line. The Blackburnian Warbler!
As I write this post, the tears roll down my face. I realized this afternoon that I had not seen the Rose Breasted Grosbeaks who had been frequenting my birdfeeding station since mid April.
On Saturday I was surprised to see that one had gotten into my house. It did not take long for me to release it through the window, however I realize now that the sweet, charming bird was saying goodbye and likely expressing its gratitude for my consistent feeding over the past few weeks.
This is a common thing. I first experienced this last fall with the Ruby-Throated Hummingbird. Several had been partaking of the nectar feeder for a few weeks. Then when I left for a conference in Montgomery, Alabama and returned, they had gone. The main tell is that the food is not as depleted as usual.
I checked birdcast and lo and behold, Sunday May 7 was a peak migration day:
I’d remarked at how much the Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks made me smile when I watched them munching sunflower kernels.
Please enjoy this gallery of the Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks from the past few weeks. They are such sweet birds.
Soon, like the Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks, I will make my way to different climes. I head to upstate New York later this month to take a position as a Postdoctoral Fellow at Cornell University for Freedom on the Move.
Moving freely like the birds.
I will make sure to update the blog once I reach Brooktondale, NY– my new home for a while.
It is February and technically winter, however my being in Mississippi and unaware of the seasonal ebbs and flows of avifauna of this region make the daily backyard birdwatching chock-full of surprises.
I began to notice birds that I did not expect to be backyard birds. On one day I saw a #RedwingedBlackbird. On another day a she #YellowRumpedWarbler and still on another day a #PineWarbler. Of course this could be perfectly normal, but because this is my first winter here, it seems quite extraordinary. These are all birds that in the past, when I lived in Nebraska, I only was able to view while at wilderness patches.
By far the most affecting bird I have observed among my backyard friends is the Purple Finch. Now before I get further into this, my backyard birds consists mainly of American Goldfinches, House Finches, White Throated Sparrows, Chipping Sparrows, Dark-Eyed Juncos, Northern Cardinals, Northern Mockingbirds, American Robins, Blue Jays, Downy Woodpeckers, Red-Bellied Woodpeckers, Red Breasted Nuthatches, Carolina Wrens, Carolina Chickadees, Northern Flickers, the occasional Redtailed Hawk, Tufted Titmice and occasional Barred Owl.
phew! I attribute this to the wild area behind my yard, plus the array of berry-producing shrubs, pines, pecans and all other manner of native vegetation that grow in this neighborhood. Plus the birdfeeding station on the side of my house is not mowed, it is mainly groundcover with lots of leaves and pinestraw. Ideal for foraging birds!
So back to the Purple Finch. One day I was seated at my special spot that provides me a view of the birdfeeding station from my porch door. I noticed a bird perched on a sapling that looked a tad different from the usual House Finches. Its markings were darker and there was a pronounced streak of white and dark across the eye area that I do not observe in she House Finches. It was a she PURPLE FINCH!
I immediately logged onto Merlin to see if what kind of bird this was.
EUREKA! A Purple Finch.
So then I wondered, if the girlies were at the birdfeeding station, soon the guys would arrive too.
It took one week. Then, the shyest little Purple Finch arrived.
Me being an introvert, I could understand his hesitation to jump into the feeding frenzy fray of the rambunctious American Goldfinches and House Finches. But over a week or so more began to arrive. At the moment I have counted 2 girlies and 4 guys in the Purple Finch crew.
But today, today I became acquainted with a rare color morph of Purple Finch. THE YELLOW PURPLE FINCH!!
Bird Xanthochromism is a genetic mutation that results in excessive production of yellow pigment.
Of course I consulted google to see what I could find out about the Yellow Purple Finch:
In Purple Finch yellow color is very rare, and often comes along with abnormal streaking, which may mean that it is hormonal.
Of course that made me beam with pride. A rare color morph in my own backyard! If you read Sibley’s post on Yellow Purple Finches you will find that it is not conclusive if they are she’s or he’s. In the world of birds, you just never know what may happen and of course there is so much mystery to the innerworkings of the bird world.
Which is what is among so many other things, so beautiful about birds. How do they know where to go, how do they communicate, how do they covers thousands of miles each year to meet their mate year after year. Perilous journeys of survival over and over…
A kindred spirit for sure. Long live the gregarious Finches!
I mention the American Goldfinch in the latest minisode of Random Nature Podcast. Listen here
The horror!! What is a birder’s worst nightmare?? Forgetting the SD Card? Forgetting to charge the camera battery?
Low sun on a spring day?? Rain on a spring day? Running out of gas in the middle of nowhere?
Top contenders for sure.
But the ABSOLUTE WORST THING TO HAPPEN TO A BIRDER–happened to me this week.
I got all the way to the birding capital of Central America: Costa Rica, only to find out that my camera was damaged and would not produce a charge for the battery.
Costa Rica:
Well i chose to treat my friend Sandi, a 72 year old retired academic success counselor to a trip to Costa Rica. I had not been out of the country since the pandemic and since my son’s passing. I figured a trip with a friend who knew my son was good for me. Christmas is a hard holiday for me, so I chose that day for us to leave.
Sandi is disabled, her condition is not a “visible” one, she has fibromyalgia and trigeminal neuralgia, making her unable to walk for long periods as well as making it hard for her to carry difficult weights. I made sure to accommodate this. This means that the wild areas of Costa Rica were off limits. I did not want to leave my friend. So I settled on a hotel that had a verdant garden which would naturally attract birds. I figured trips to Monteverde would be better served on another trip.
The camera fouled on me though. I could not take ONE PICTURE. I was devastated. But the truth of the matter is that dropping camera too many times will cause problems and sadly the deterioration manifested during this trip.
Getting good images of birds in Costa Rica means leaving the city centers. Like any landscape, the presence of birds is increased by a water source and diversity of vegetation. Costa Rica has many beautiful birds. Find some here:
When it comes to viewing wildlife in any region, the larger the expanse of pristine wilderness means having to hike a great deal to view said wildlife.
Because these birds have large expanses to feed and live, they don’t have to be concentrated in one area like a zoo. So this means the person looking to photo wildlife needs to have some hours on their hands or perhaps have very good luck. Most birders who get pics in Costa Rica have hiked for hours in a day or have spend the money to stay in exclusive places like Rancho Naturalista where the property is cultivated to attract many birds. Feeder stations are input on the property to ensure bird viewing.
But still even in town, one can see neotropical birds at botanical gardens. This is what I was going to to attempt. I knew my friend could not manage the long hikes. I figured I would get some photos at the botanical gardens. But my camera fouled!
Getting around in Costa Rica is not difficult for tourists. I used ubers. Some opt for a rental car, but driving in different countries is not easy. The rules of the road are a bit more flexible seeming, lots of people walking in the road, lots of people on scooters, many trucks seemingly coming out of nowhere. I would rather leave that to the locals.
The locals are very kind. Every person we dealt with including airport security was kind to us. As African American women who are brown-skinned we were happy that everyone welcomed us.
We will go back to Costa Rica next winter and next time???
RANCHO NATURALISTA!!
I did have a grief bomb on departure. I thought of my Ricky and how I would have loved to have him with me on the trip. I wept in the boarding line, prayed to God, wrote my mentor, Matt Cohen on the plane, and the grace washed over me.
I almost fainted as we waited to board the plane back to the U.S today in Costa Rica. A grief wave hit that had been suppressed by travel panic/frenzy/logistics. I love you always my son. pic.twitter.com/bbo3BAN7Le
— Dr. Christy Hyman 🕊Remember Robb Elementary 🕊 (@Christy_SpaceHW) December 29, 2022
Today was a day of deep contemplation, grief, and witnessing.
I walked the perimeter of Bluff Lake Rd. at Noxubee, something I never do. And within that walk Spirit revealed many things to me.
The road seemed long at times, I played The Blind Boys of Alabama, and the music worked with Spirit, in tandem with the Ancestors, and the DIvine Love of God to send a message to me for survival.
When Spirit speaks I listen. But to know its arrival, requires stillness. The griever in touch with Nature is an enigmatic soul to non-grievers. They wonder why they avoid social gatherings that are not required for their job or promotion. They wonder why they don’t seek human connection. It is because in Nature there is a stillness that is missing from the fracas of human connection. The frenetic, often inauthentic energy from fellow humans is not a investment the griever is willing to provide.
Freedom’s Road”
Ain’t gonna let nobody, turn me round, Lord, Turn me round, turn me round, Ain’t gonna let nobody, turn me round, I just keep on a-walkin’, keep on a-talkin’, Marching up on freedom land.
Ain’t gonna let no jailhouse, turn me round, Turn me round, turn me round, Ain’t gonna let no jailhouse, turn me round, Oh, I, keep on a-walkin’, keep on a-talkin’, Marching on to freedom land.
I can’t let segregation, turn me round, Turn me round, turn me round, Ain’t gonna let segregation, turn me round, I’m gonna keep on a-walkin’, keep on a-talkin’, Marching on to freedom land.
It has been a while since I updated here and it is not because I have not been birding. On the contrary, I have been birding every single day. It is just that I am maintaining my other blog spatialhuman.org, plus I have began a podcast called Random Nature. Those things have taken up a lot of my time.
Plus I started my new job 🙂
For now though I will provide you with pictorial views of my happenings since I last posted. Happy Fall Migration!
Noxubee Scenes:
My backyard birds have also been very friendly. Especially since I created the best birdfeeding station I could think of on a budget. I dragged an old, but sturdy branch across the yard and affixed it to my side porch door where instead of lawn there is groundcover and lots of small tree cover.
I am very blessed to be in community with these beautiful birds.
An update is in order! I moved to Starkville, Mississippi on July 1 with my two cats Gimley and Woodstock.
And I have had the chance to see lots of charismatic species because Starkville is located near Noxubee National Wildlife Refuge
Note that in the gallery directly above that the Green Heron and Osprey were sighted at Gulf Shores National Wildlife Refuge, located in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. I drove down there on July 15 after having a challenging grief day the prior night. I am first and foremost a grieving birder and those closest to me know that my Angelson’s Day of Ascension is August 3. The day he passed away. His death day. I chose to call it D.O.R.A (Day of Ricky’s Ascension).
This being known, as the day draws closer, I know I need to have a place to meditate and reflect on that day. It is the 2nd one I have had to experience and unlike the 1st, where my daughter and I traveled to a place we all used to live in Missouri, this year I am going alone.
This place, Gulf Shores National Seashore is filled with beautiful Live Oak trees that provide their own ecosystems for plants and animals. Resurrection Fern grows on them.
“This remarkable plant can lose about 75 percent of its water content during a typical dry period and possibly up to 97 percent in an extreme drought. During this time, it shrivels up to a grayish brown clump of leaves. When it is exposed to water again, it will “come back to life” and look green and healthy. The plant gets its name from this supposed “resurrection,” but it never actually dies during the process. By contrast, most other plants can lose only 10 percent of their water content before they die. Fronds are typically 4 to 12 inches (10 to 30 centimeters) in length.”
The National Wildlife Federation
This plant inspires me and it grows on the Live Oak in my new yard in Starkville. I find myself staring at it all day. Hoping the rain comes to replenish it over and over. There is a metaphor for life and grief in there somewhere.
There were so many juvenile Eastern Bluebirds near those trees.
After I left Gulf Shores National Wildlife Refuge, I drove over to the public beach access in Ocean Springs.
“the death of the body and the brain are not the end of consciousness, that human experience continues beyond the grave. More important, it continues under the gaze of a God who loves and cares about each one of us and about where the universe itself and all the beings within it are ultimately going.”
Alexander III M.D., Eben. Proof of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Afterlife (p. 9). Simon & Schuster.
This has been some Spring Migration! I saw all kinds of warblers! My birder friends saw Indigo Buntings, Ruby-throateds! I saw Orchard Orioles, Baltimore Orioles, Golden Wing Warblers, the works!!
Unlike last spring and summer I was in North Carolina. Not this year. I have been settled in Lincoln where I live for the time being mostly because I just graduated with my PhD. Check out spatial human for that.
Well today is the Global Big Day and the weather here in Lincoln, Nebraska is amazing and Spring Migration is in full swing. People are seeing all kinds of birds. The rarities list from ebird continues to astound. I mean we should have known right? That Stellars Sea Eagle was an omen of more amazing birds to come!
I spent my Global Big Day at Stagecoach Lake Recreation Area and began my bird walk at around 10am. I saw many beautiful birds. And here they are:
Here are photos of birds I have seen between May 9-May 12:
As a general rule, birds are seen as a conduit between the terrestrial and divine realms. They serve as a spiritual bridge connecting the heavenly and terrestrial realms.
I am grateful on this day and all days. Though I carry my grief with me in all the things I do, I remember the phrase that keeps me going in honoring my son in Heaven:
Make everything as beautiful as him
Today is Easter. It is a holiday that parents know all too well. For those who observe, it is a holiday that involves church attendance and leading up to it…well, Easter Baskets, Easter Egg Hunts, and favors to pass out for classmates before Easter vacation from school.
Easter Day, 2010, my mother, my daughter Chastity (age 10 at the time), and my Angelson Ricky (age 4 at the time). Galilee United Methodist Church, Laurinburg, NC.
This Easter is special because it aligns with several other religious holidays: Passover, Ramadan and more.
Those who follow this blogspace know that I am very spiritual and that despite my not attending church, I have a special relationship with my faith, which is an amalgam of New Age Christianity, Buddhism, and elements of Sufism.
Nothing is separate from God. My faith, even in the midst of profound loss is firm.
You might even think of faith as symbiosis or sympoiesis: faith is the relationship between the Egyptian plover bird and the crocodile, the wasp and the orchid, microbial civilizations in our guts and the memories we process. The water buffalo is the kasaya of the oxpecker; the ostrich is the yarmulke of the zebra. Faith means that bodies need bodies in order to thrive and in order to die well. It is coalitional, alliance-making, world-shaping, co-creative work. We live and breathe and die in faith.
Bayo Akomolafe
As we prepare to go into another week of mysteries, possibilities, yearnings, and receivings. let us remember this Earth, its abundant beauty, and the inheritance we hold to sustain it even in chaotic times.
It is Earth Week!
I will close this with my latest images of birds and landscape in Nebraska.
I am going to share something beautiful about my son on every birthday of his.
He was an amazing artist…and Lego builder.
.This was the beginning of a portrait he did of my mother when she was 19. He was experimenting with the stippling technique.
And during the pandemic he taught himself piano.
My son was a gifted artist. He loved nature and animals. He especially loved to sit on the balcony and watch birds. This, of course, influenced my grief healing journey through birding.
I hope you all will wish Ricky a happy birthday with me and his family today.
We love him so very much. We miss him terribly, but we are remembering him each and every day, sending his spirit forth in love and good works is how we cope.
“The time of heaven—the time dimension that we enter when we leave this body—allows for the full expression of those selves that we worked so hard to develop in life.”- Eben Alexander
I recently drove back to Lincoln, Nebraska from Tucson on February 28. And while driving through southeastern Colorado, I realized I would never take the trip again.
December 31, 2021 heading to Tucson.
You see, I will be relocating to the southeast in the summer to begin a tenure track Assistant Professor job(big announcement to come on my real name twitter) so I will not be driving to Lincoln, or from Lincoln ever again July 2022.
I came to Tucson on New Years Eve to avoid the polar vortex that often befalls Nebraska in winter. As a griever and a naturalist, it is incredibly hard for me to keep the faith in temperatures that hurt your face. The birdsong is gone, the clouds are grey and it is dangerous to go outside. If my strength and hope comes from the beauty and soundscape of nature, then winter in Nebraska during freezing cold would deplete me emotionally. I knew I had a dissertation to finish writing and I needed good vibes to motivate me. So it was important that I go to Tucson.
My family was against my doing this. Mostly because of the costs, but also because it seemed incredibly complicated and unorthodox. My family is VERY conventional. I did not have much money because I’d just paid my bills and I’d provided my daughter with a lot of resources before I left. I ended up borrowing money from my older sister, mom, and a friend in order to make my trip. I am grateful for their generosity.
The airbnb I stayed in while in Tucson
I have a trusted friend who lives in Tucson, but she lives in a senior community so it would not have worked for me to stay with her. But she was kind to let me do my laundry at her house while there and chill with her, when I needed a change of scene.
A kind person at University of Arizona helped me to find a study space while there.
Dissertating in the Department of Geography Space!
In a way I knew my time in Tucson would be special. THe first weekend I was there I spotted a rare bird, the Crested Caracara. I was heading down to Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge. It was beside the road feeding. What made its appearance rare was the time of the year and how north it was.
I also saw the Elegant Trogon in Portal while there. This is a very sought after bird.
It was moving and I was far away. I am still so amazed that I saw 15 minutes after I arrived at Portal!
Elegant Trogons are one of the most sought-after birds by bird watchers in the U.S., They breed regularly in only four mountain ranges in Arizona: the Atascosas, Chiricahuas, Huachucas, and Santa Ritas.
Here were some other amazing birds I saw while in Tucson
While in Tucson, I was flown out for a job that I was eventually offered:
Pictures above are from my visit there.
I was so honored for the opportunity.
But no, I will never have to drive from Tucson to Lincoln again.
I am grateful for the time there, for the travel mercies that ensured my safe journey back and most of all, for the Life Force that my Angel Son Ricky continues to send me to keep me pushing on.
Bird Lady of Turtle Island 