May 5, 2026

Where: Eakin Park, at Prosperity Road

When: 5:40pm - 6:08 pm

Bird Species: northern cardinal, American crow, eastern bluebird, house sparrow, American robin, common grackle. Heard but not seen: downy woodpecker, Carolina chickadee, red-shouldered hawk, pileated woodpecker, blue-gray gnatcatcher.

Things I Thought About:

• A person in my sister's neighborhood bought a giant werewolf statue last Halloween, and he has stayed at the end of their driveway ever since then, changing his outfits with the season. Today he is kitted out for Cinco de Mayo. This werewolf is holding me together.
• And I need holding together. A pretty fantastic display of numbskullery today has brought me to this park, at which I did not intend to stop, because I allowed my phone to die completely, so no maps app, and I zipped right past a turn I have made for several Tuesdays.
• To be fair, I would have failed at this well before maps apps were a thing. In my youth I had to get directions the first dozen times I drove somewhere, and could routinely get lost on the way to places I had been a dozen times.
• I often have gotten on the beltway going the wrong direction, as recently as February. I have lived here 8 years.
• I like "numbskullery" as an alternative to "dumbfuckery." It is more literally correct. I'm not being stupid here; I just lack sensation in my brain. I have these thoughts, like, "Am I supposed to be in the turn lane?" but then nothing happens.
• I do like this park, but it is bad for photos this time of year. It is yet another section of the cross county trail, meaning very thick foliage and tall trees on all sides of a standard width paved trail. For photos, you really do need an open space, a legit edge of the tree line, where you can see them fly in. This is just a trail through the woods.
• I can hear an eastern bluebird singing his head off, though. And behind me, I can hear a woman say, "Well, we could ask her." I turn, and a very small boy in a big plastic Bigwheel-branded pushcart says, "What are you DOING?" in an extremely cute and accusatory way. "Trying to take a picture of that bluebird right there," I reply, pointing. The kid never sees the bluebird, but the moms do.
• Much discussion with the child of whether it was a bluebird, or just a blue bird, and what the distinction is. "Do you ride in a Bigwheel, or is it just a big wheel?" gets me nowhere.
• Northern cardinal female, looks like shit. I can't believe this is only my second bird today.

• It occurs to me that I have the blues, and that also this will probably be my third day in a row of blue birds. I have the blues; I am in a funk. Blue birds are nice, though.
• I feel like I'm having worse and worse bird outings, which I'd love to blame on the time of year and the increasingly frustrating thickets of obscuring greenery, but it's me. It is definitely me.
• I am finding it difficult to still my body, never mind my brain. I am finding it difficult to possess myself with patience, the way one must, to wait out a blue-gray gnatcatcher, or see what fills in the empty spots if you wait and few minutes more.
• I am finding it difficult to be grateful and humble in the face of all this verdant bounty. Lately, I am mostly finding myself plagued by the twin sins of feeling lonesome and being angry. Which is going around, I hear.
• The heard but not seen tonight includes a pileated goddamn woodpecker again.
• Time to rush off again to pub quiz. I really need to make the time for a long weekday walk. Today should have been the ideal time, since my phone was dead. Another day, and soon.

BOTD: the eastern bluebird. I did take a photo of the American robin today, too, and in that one you could see he face, but this bluebird was the guy that was singing, and his song led me right to him, the way it is supposed to. One thing he did not do was turn around even once, but he's still a good bird to see.