Field Guide
I have in my possession a Kaufman Field Guide to the Birds of North America. This is a book that took an unimaginable number of person-hours to produce. It has more than 2,000 images digitally edited by Kenn Kaufman himself, which are based on photos taken by more than 80 photographers. This book includes information on migration patterns and bird calls (FYI the voice of the Bald Eagle is a “rather weak, harsh chatter”). It can help you distinguish between a Hermit Thrush, a Veery, and a Swainson’s thrush, all seven-inch-long brown birds that you can’t even see in real life anyway.
And, if you take into account factors like the number of hours he spent pursuing advanced degrees in ornithology, developing film, and tracking the Canyon Wren through the arroyos of the west, it becomes clear that the author of this book hoped that it would be used for much, much more than the humble purposes for which I have employed it; namely, squinting at the mini flock in front of my garage for forty minutes before making a positive identification of… a… bunch of… House Sparrows.
I am pathetic. I don’t need this book, the result of years of scholarly and naturalist endeavor. I need the pathetic San Gabriel Valley neighborhood edition. It would have, like, four birds in it. They would be: 1) The vacant-eyed Mourning Doves that just stare up at you from the sidewalk. Fly bird! Can’t you see I’m a predator? I have binocular vision and sharp teeth; act scared! 2) The Crows dropping acorns in my street and on my car. 3) The ever-elusive, difficult to identify Monrovia Backyard House Sparrow, and 4) Those Parrots. They wake me up on the weekend. They eat all of the apples from my tree. They frighten children and intimidate joggers. And I’m pretty sure they are responsible for the graffiti that is showing up everywhere all of the sudden.
That’s the field guide I need. Because, I know that somewhere in the wilderness, Kenn Kaufmann is cringing every time I see a woodpecker with a red head, and go, “ooh, a woodpecker with a red head. I wonder what kind of bird that is.” Then I flip through my field guide, through the Nighthawks, and Kingfishers, and Trogons until I find the bird I am looking for.
It’s a Red Headed Woodpecker.
I have in my possession a Kaufman Field Guide to the Birds of North America. This is a book that took an unimaginable number of person-hours to produce. It has more than 2,000 images digitally edited by Kenn Kaufman himself, which are based on photos taken by more than 80 photographers. This book includes information on migration patterns and bird calls (FYI the voice of the Bald Eagle is a “rather weak, harsh chatter”). It can help you distinguish between a Hermit Thrush, a Veery, and a Swainson’s thrush, all seven-inch-long brown birds that you can’t even see in real life anyway.
And, if you take into account factors like the number of hours he spent pursuing advanced degrees in ornithology, developing film, and tracking the Canyon Wren through the arroyos of the west, it becomes clear that the author of this book hoped that it would be used for much, much more than the humble purposes for which I have employed it; namely, squinting at the mini flock in front of my garage for forty minutes before making a positive identification of… a… bunch of… House Sparrows.
I am pathetic. I don’t need this book, the result of years of scholarly and naturalist endeavor. I need the pathetic San Gabriel Valley neighborhood edition. It would have, like, four birds in it. They would be: 1) The vacant-eyed Mourning Doves that just stare up at you from the sidewalk. Fly bird! Can’t you see I’m a predator? I have binocular vision and sharp teeth; act scared! 2) The Crows dropping acorns in my street and on my car. 3) The ever-elusive, difficult to identify Monrovia Backyard House Sparrow, and 4) Those Parrots. They wake me up on the weekend. They eat all of the apples from my tree. They frighten children and intimidate joggers. And I’m pretty sure they are responsible for the graffiti that is showing up everywhere all of the sudden.
That’s the field guide I need. Because, I know that somewhere in the wilderness, Kenn Kaufmann is cringing every time I see a woodpecker with a red head, and go, “ooh, a woodpecker with a red head. I wonder what kind of bird that is.” Then I flip through my field guide, through the Nighthawks, and Kingfishers, and Trogons until I find the bird I am looking for.
It’s a Red Headed Woodpecker.
posted by kyle at 8:17 PM
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