At last! Trebuchet requested mystery birds, and I finally got one of the bastards to hold still long enough for a good shot. We’d have had this long ago if crows, robins, seagulls, red-tailed hawks, cormorants, bald eagles, and blue herons counted, but if they’re easy enough for a clueless git like myself to identify, they don’t quite count as UFDs.
I’ve been on the lookout for unknown birds ever since Trebuchet’s request, and I’ve seen a few, but the fuckers never hold still. I’ll be like, “Ooo, mystery bird!” and swing my camera round, and the bird’s all like, “Ha ha ha fuck you! You’ll never photograph meeeee!!!” as it flies into places my camera can’t reach. This one at Seward Park tried the same nonsense, but it went and hid in a tree with lots of gaps in it.
It’s got speckles! That’s so cool. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen one of these round here before, but then, I’ve usually got my eye on rocks and landforms and flowers and insects and other such things that are easier to take photos of.
I spotted this little dude on the ground under the fir (?) tree first, and I got super-excited. But of course, it flew up into the branches before I could bring the camera to bear. I might have startled Ryan and Ryan a bit with the vehemence of my cursing. And I’m all trying to shoot it through this tiny little gap in the greenery, and my camera’s going, “Oh, neat! You want a macro of the needles!” And I’m going, “NO I DO NOT WANT A MACRO OF THE DAMNED NEEDLES YOU DUMBSHIT! I WANT THE FUCKING BIRD!!” I finally persuaded it to understand, terrified all the while that the bird would catch on to the fact I could see it and would head for a location up near the crown, or perhaps across Anderson Bay. After a few hasty shots through the tiny gap, I decided to risk it all and ducked beneath the branches, circling round to where I had a clear, unobstructed view of the UFD – only to discover the bastard was backlit.
Thank the programmers for photo editing software. Otherwise, all you’d get is an amorphous black blob.
Right. So there you are. Our very first Unidentified Flying Dinosaur. Woot! I shall be terrorizing the avian community all summer in the attempt to get you more, my darlings. Because I love you, and I want you to be happy.