Very nice read. I know the feeling when I find a rare bird, even now.
My first was a Mountain Plover on Settegast Road Galveston in the mid
1990's. I only had the Peterson Eastern Birds with me and did not see the
bird in the book. It wasn't until I got home and realized the find and put
it on the bird tape.
The other was a Pomeraine Jaeger on Bolivar. I photographed it on my way to
High Island and showed the photos to a lady at the desk. My 'unusual gull'
was not a gull at all. hahaha
These rarities are always exciting.
David McDonald
Friendswood TX
On Wed, Mar 3, 2021 at 9:50 AM Clay Taylor <Clay.Taylor@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
wrote:
Outstanding!
Yeah, I can imagine the entrance that Joe Taylor (no relation to me) made
that day. He loved being the Top Birder in N.A. (well, at least having the
top ABA bird list) and played the role well.
Thanks for the story!
Clay Taylor
TOS Life Member
Swarovski Optik N.A.
(Calallen) Corpus Christi, TX
Sent from my iPhone
On Mar 3, 2021, at 8:09 AM, bertf@xxxxxxxxxxx wrote:
Jennifer Hecker of the Austin History Center has kindly scanned old issues
of Signal Smoke for me. I found a fascinating first-hand account of the
first US record of Green Violet-ear, now Mexican Violetear. Unfortunately
she only scanned the first page of the article and I was left spellbound,
not knowing how the story ended or, even, who wrote it. Just now Jennifer
retrieved the other pages and sent them to me. So, now I have the full
story. Here it is.
Bert Frenz
-----
TWENTY-FIVE UNFORGETTABLE DAYS WITH - THE GREEN VIOLET-EAR HUMMER
August 25, 1969......Just another Monday, I'm thinking, as I go through
the same routine, filling bird baths, replenishing sunflower feeders (being
sure I spill plenty for rock squirrels) 'cause my husband says: "You can't
feed everyone sunflower seed!" Then clean and refill hummingbird feeders,
not noticing the Ruby-throats too much, for I must rush in and feed a
starving cat, so he is informing me. Now, at last, my first cup of coffee.
No, not yet, for from a distance I hear the roadrunner clacking his beak.
Guess he has seen me and is mad because I chunk rocks at him. He has come
for his breakfast which consists of young Cardinals. You see, we had a
bumper crop this spring and he doesn't have to look for lizards, just sits
quietly in a tree and waits for a Cardinal to come close. Then off he goes
with his breakfast. So out I go and chunk rocks at the sound. "He is very
smart, and staying out of sight! I think to myself. The clacking continues
from a distance all morning. I go out and throw another rock.
By now the a.m. has become p.m.-- 2:45, to be exact, and I'd better get
started with my usual cleaning. Maybe the guest room first, since I have a
peek-hole cut in the blind that gives me a view of the west bird bath
(furniture gets cleaned an awful lot near windows). I hear the clacking
again. Good, I'll stop, and watch through the peek-hole, I looked out and
literally froze. It just couldn't be, but it was.....a BIG hummingbird,
perched in the Chinese tallow. I thawed enough and believe me I became
unglued, but managed to get to the telephone. My mind was in a state of
shock---who to call. I couldn't remember names or 'phone numbers, except
Mary Anne McClendon, and I knew she wasn't well and usually napped in the
afternoons, but I called anyway. No answer, Iris McDermott....call Iris.
She was having hay fever and couldn't come. Then I remembered Lucette
Sharp. I called Lucette, but her car had a flat tire and she couldn't come,
More panic! I've got to get someone out here to see and identify this
hummer before he leaves. Call Mary Anne again and pray that she will
answer. She did, at last, and calmed me down enough to make sense. I told
her I thought I had a blue-throat Hummer, At first she said she just wasn't
able to come, but when I told her it sounded like a roadrunner clacking
from a distance she said: "Put salt on his tail, I'll be right there!" I
ran back to the window, heard the clacking, and up he came to the feeder. I
had been throwing rocks at this sound all morning, and Sunday, the 24th,
working outside with my husband I exclaimed with disgust: "I hear that
roadrunner in the woods, clacking at us because he wants another Cardinal."
And it was this beautiful big hummer I was hearing. Well, it doesn't pay to
get lax and not look around your feeders, I just never dreamed I would have
anything so rare in my yard, and believe me I'll make sure I SEE the
roadrunner first, and listen to every sound before I chunk rocks again.
Being an amateur birder, I said Blue-throat because he was big and right
there in my book. Too excited to notice this strange hummer had no white
on his tail. Mary Anne arrived in a cloud of dust, and I told her to listen
for a dry, metallic clacking and to watch the feeder. Soon he showed
himself again. She exclaimed: "Why he looks as big as an elephant!" She
said: "That's no Blue-throat, or any hummer I've seen." We knew we really
had something rare here. Mary Anne said: "Call Fred Webster." I didn't know
Fred then, and felt that no one would listen to an amateur. The experts are
busy people and can't run to check every report that some hysterical person
calls in. Since Mary Anne knows and is well-known by the experts, she
agreed to call. It was after 4:00 p.m. by then, and by the time she got
Fred Webster it was too late for that day, so he came Tuesday, the 26th, at
11:00 a.m. He waited two hours and hadn't seen the bird. Fred said he, had
to get back to the office, and just then Mary Anne said: " I hear him!" And
there he was for Fred to see, but Fred was stumped on this one. He said:
"I'll call Edgar Kincaid." Well, Edgar sent his scout John Rowlett on
Wednesday, the 27th. By then, Ruby Ripperton and Elizabeth Henze had come,
and we all sat and watched hypnotized. John named hummers I had never heard
of, but wouldn't commit himself. He said: "Edgar Kincaid has to see this!",
and left to get him. By then, we were all praying the bird would stay long
enough to get his identity. John came back with Edgar Kincaid at 5:35 p.m.
Edgar saw the hummingbird and knew at once which one he was, and also made
me feel like the Queen of Birdwatchers when he told me I had in my yard the
Green Violet Ear. Description from Blake's "Birds of Mexico"---"Resident of
highland oak forests of southern Mexico, from Jalisco to San Luis Potosi
southward, Adult male 4-1/2 to 4-3/4 inches, slim built, long rounded tail.
His back is a bright metallic bronze-green. Tail blue-tipped, with a broad
subterminal dusky band. Auriculars, sides of neck, and median breast
metallic violet-blue. The underparts otherwise mainly bright metallic
green, crissum paler. The feathers edged with buff. Black bill, short and
slightly curved." Well, we had him identified, but we wanted more than
sight records for this accidental, so Edgar Kincaid called in Parks and
Wildlife photographers to capture his beauty on film. Nancy McGowan, Parks
and Wildlife artist, painted his portrait in watercolor. Now, we have the
first authenticated record of the Green Violet Ear in the U.S.A. (Even I
spent five very uncomfortable bouts behind the camera, my head covered with
a colorful scarf. Well, BIG BOY wouldn't go to the feeder, instead he came
to inspect the scarf, and what a thrill to see him so close and feel the
gentle breeze as the beat of his wings played on the scarf. I discovered
that the movements of his wings are not as fast, nor do they make the
humming noise that the Rubythroat's wings make. Everyone who tried
photographing him commented: "He is a real challenge." (My sentiments
exactly!)
The news traveled fast, far, and wide. Birders came from Dallas, Houston,
San Antonio, Beaumont, La Porte, Baytown, Waco, and Wimberley, and one of
the best known birders, Joseph W. Taylor, came all the way from New York to
see him. All these in addition to dozens and dozens of interested Austin
birders, no one had to search for this hummer. Just sit on the covered
patio and wait for him to come to the feeder. That's called "Birding in
Luxury!" Fred and Marie Webster, James Tucker, David Larkin were given an
added treat as they stood in the yard, reluctant to leave. Here he came,
ready to feed, naturally each feeder is guarded by a Rubythroat. They
started to give chase, but BIG BOY returned the favor, forgetting that he
was shy of people. Back and forth, not over two feet away from us in all
his beauty, his long tail in a perfect fan, he and the Rubythroats fought
for the feeder, while we awe-struck onlookers held our breath and took in
the closest look of beauty any of us had ever been privileged to witness.
His new-found determination made me glad too, because for a while after his
mysterious arrival he would not fight for his turn at the feeder, but ate
lots of insects, perched, and slept (but I bet, with one eye open) waiting
until one Rubythroat was chasing another, then working his way down to the
feeder in little sidewise movements, clacking all the time. But he only had
time for a taste of sugarwater and he needed much more for one of his size.
I think he discovered at last that he was bigger and tougher than the
pugnacious Rubythroats, and all he had to do was move toward one a little,
and he had it made. From then on, when he wanted to feed, he did, and more
often, but with squeaking indignant Rubythroats bouncing up and down (but
well out of reach).
I had worried that he couldn't survive, or might leave for lack of food,
so it was with great pride I watched the turn-about, and he took the adult
male Rubythroat's favorite perch. And perch he did, in all his splendor for
so many to see. There are so many unanswerable questions. What is he doing
so far from his native habitat, would he stay and survive the winter; would
he try to find his way back to his native land, and would he even know how
to try since he is not a migrant. Maybe he is on a good-will tour; found my
yard reminded him a little of home and decided this was as good a place as
any to stay awhile and cement good relations, and, in doing so, bringing
happiness and beauty to 112 birders who saw him. And to me, 112 birders to
add to my "life list of friends."
My BIG BOY GREEN VIOLET EAR (I call him "mine") decided it was time to
continue his journey to somewhere and took his leave without fanfare. The
Gerald Hardings, of San Antonio, were here to try to photograph him
Thursday, Sept. 18 at 4:30 p.m. He came and teased them, but wouldn't
"pose", and they gave up for the day, I saw BIG BOY the last time around
5:30 p.m. Thursday, Sept.18. Friday a.m. on the 19th, the Hardings were
back to try again, I told them I had not seen nor heard him. They stayed
until noon, I guess, and left, disappointed again. Mary Anne came out to
see the Hardings but had to stay and console me. I wouldn't give up and
watched and listened until 7:00 p.m. Friday and all day Saturday.
He is really gone and left an emptiness that will be with me a long time,
but he also left 25 days of happy memories that will be mine forever.
In closing, I would like to quote from the newsletter of the American
Birding Association, of which James A. Tucker is editor. Happiness is
"being the most inexperienced birder in the group and finding the rarest
bird."
--- Mrs. Ken (Nila) Copeland
