LAST WEEK’S WINNER
Alyson Widen of Cleveland, Ohio, was randomly chosen last week’s $25 winner with the correct answer to the question: How much did Bridget’s coat cost? Ans. $100.
“Hold up!” I said to Bridget.
We stopped walking. “There, in the tree.”
We raised our binoculars.
“I don’t see it,” she said.
I lowered my binoculars. “It just moved.”
“There it is!” she said. “In the bush.”
“I see it.” I raised my binoculars. “It has an eye ring.”
“And a yellow butt,” she said. “Keep watching. I’ll check the book.”
“It just flew away. Damn! That always happens. It was small. Maybe a warbler.”
She flipped through pages. “Or a vireo.”
I peered over her shoulder. “It had a yellow chest.”
She shook her head. “They’re all so similar.”
“Wait,” I said. “Turn back.”
She fingered back a page. “Look!” She pointed to a picture. “It’s got a yellow chest.”
I looked close. “And a yellow butt!”
“That’s it!” She turned to me, eyes beaming. “It’s a yellow-rump warbler.”
We hugged and jumped around. “We’re birders,” I cried. “Real birders!”
The late afternoon sun hung low over the plains like a giant orange.
“I love it out here,” I said, holding in a lungful of smoke. “It’s my favorite time of day to drive around and enjoy the scenery.” I handed Bridget the joint.
She took a deep hit. “What do you like about it?”
“The warm lighting, long mountain shadows … fence posts … cows.”
We busted up laughing.
“Moo,” I yelled out the window and then squeezed Bridget’s knee. “This is the life!”
She grinned. “Helluva lot better than Detroit.” She took another hit. “A rough place to grow up.”
“That’s why the gun? Old habits, and all?”
She nodded. “My sister wouldn’t let me leave without it. Wow!” Her shiny black eyes got big. “This is some weed.”
We stayed quiet. Grinning, enjoying the orange sunlight, the—
“Look!” She pointed. “On the fence post. Pull over.” She grabbed her binoculars.
“I see it. It’s black.” I skidded to a halt on the gravel shoulder and reached for my bird book.
“It might be a crow or a raven,” she said.
I ran my finger down the index. Crow, crow…
“Wait a minute,” she said. “It has red wing bars.”
I found the crow page. “Crows don’t have red.”
“Let me see.” She flipped pages. “Here it is!”
“Yes!” I shrieked. “A red-wing black bird!”
We grooved on it for long, long time as it stood, looking around here and there … whistling … perhaps for a mate?
You can’t beat bonding with another birder. Especially when you get to share the same sleeping bag.
Next Week: That’s The Girl For Me!
IF YOU’RE ENJOYING these goofy blogs, share them with friends (or, heck, anybody). There’s a new one each week (until I run out of drugs, girlfriends, and wives.)
YOU ALSO MIGHT LIKE MY BOOKS: billbrier.com/books/
THE DEVIL ORDERS TAKEOUT — Award-winning thriller (that Scooby loved).
(Buy on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, BAM, iBooks, Kobo, Google Play, Audible)
THE KILLER WHO HATED SOUP — Award-winning mystery (that Scooby really loved).
(Buy on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, Kobo, Google Play, Smashwords, Audible)
THE KILLER WHO WASN’T THERE — Award-winning mystery (that Scooby’s still reading).
(Coming February 24th. Preorder now! Amazon, Barnes & Noble, IndieBound, BAM)
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