Hide, Horn, Fish, and Fowl: Texas Hunting and Fishing Lore

THIS IS FOR THE BIRDS

Pelican near Lake Buchanan 7978-ch04.pdf 10/6/11 8:16 AM Page 254 THIS IS FOR THE BIRDS by Charlie Oden  My wife Georgia and I were bird watchers, or “birders,” as folks frequently called bird watchers. It is in this sense that we hunted wild birds. We also hunted for wildflowers, which led to hunting for arboretums and botanical gardens. Different species of trees also held our interests. The government of the State of Texas had passed the laws making the mocking bird the State bird, all species of blue bonnets the State flower, and the pecan the State tree. Georgia and I saw wild birds just about any place we looked. We also had a fair amount of knowledge about the local birds in our part of Central Texas. Mourning doves, quail, and wild turkeys we knew as game birds. Other Central Texas birds included mocking birds, scissor tailed flycatchers, jays, wrens and sparrows, whip-poor-wills, owls, hawks, crows, cliff swallows, cardinals, and turkey vultures. We found mocking birds just about everywhere, representing Texas as the State Bird. They were in the residential areas, warehouse areas, and commercial districts with banks, malls, small businesses and offices for professional people. Scissor-tailed flycatchers with bright salmon-pink sides and belly snapped up flying bugs out in the open country. Jays in populated areas scolded cats. Wrens and sparrows in barnyards hopped about and pecked for food. Whip-poor-wills in creek bottoms made their presence known by calling their “whip-poor-wills” where the stars at night were big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas. Owls of all sorts, those ghost riders in the sky, were also in all sorts of places—trees, barns, and vacant buildings where they called “Hoo, hoo-hoo, hoo, hoo” and scared little kids. Hawks sat on utility pole wires, sternly scrutinizing their surroundings for lizards and mice. Crows ate the farmers ’ corn and called “caw, caw, caw!” while they waved black wings like pirate’s flags as they navigated over farm houses, yards, fields, 255 7978-ch04.pdf 10/6/11 8:16 AM Page 255 streams and woodlands. Sparrow-sized cliff swallows were made happy by the building of freeways because there was always mud for building their nests. We also found cardinals that flashed their red beauty through the shrubbery. Their mates were even more beautiful. And there were the turkey vultures that were material for Aggie jokes and road kill. Back then, there were no grackles yet to bomb our windshields. But the red, red Robins came bob, bob bobbing along each year in February and March in their frock tailed coats and red vests, cheerfully chirping, chattering, and splashing in what was the nastiest of cold drizzling rain to us, the local folks. They were singing in the rain. These little fellows were lessons in proper posture. When my employer moved me to Houston in 1959, birding opportunities increased ten-fold. The moneymaking developers had not yet “developed” Galveston Island, destroying the habitat for wild creatures while in the process. When driving on the Gulf Freeway from Houston to Galveston, birders could pull over as they approached the Galveston Causeway and watch the roseate spoonbills (thirty+ inches from bill tip to tail tip) standing in wide, shallow ditches filled with water, frogs, bugs, and long stemmed grasses. These birds put their long, slender necks down in the ditches where their peculiar wide beaks seined the water for food. The color combination of their feathers reminded one of folks wearing white sweaters and pink skirts. In the same area with them, pink flamingoes (forty-eight inches from bill tip to tail tip) were doing much the same. In the same area, also, other bird life—white egrets (forty-one inches from bill tip to tail tip), variously hued herons (thirty such inches), and white storks (forty-four such inches) were busily living out their struggles through life and mating to produce the generations to follow. On the island itself, birders could drive along the Stewart Ranch Road. If memory serves, portions of it were unpaved, just dirt road, generally speaking. As the car’s wheels rolled slowly along, they flushed large flocks of red-winged blackbirds, briefly 256 You Hunt What?! Unusual Prey and Other Things We Chase 7978-ch04.pdf 10/6/11 8:16 AM Page 256 startling the birders riding...