Journal of a Sabbatical

November 8, 2000

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Today's Bird Sightings:
Plum Island
gadwall (18)
northern harrier (1)
mallard (4)
herring gull (2)
American black duck (12)
mourning dove (1)
Salisbury Beach
snow bunting (36)
black-bellied plover (1)
herring gull (49)
dunlin (3)
greater yellowlegs (1)
sanderling (200)
American black duck (42)
great black back gull (2)
American crow (7)

Mammals
harbor seals (63)
Other
Coast Guard assets (1)

Today's Reading: The Birds of Winter by Kit & George Harrison, Autumn from the Journal of Henry David Thoreau edited by H.G.O. Blake

Good mornin', America, how are you? Bleary eyed, groggy, and late. That's how. Whoever finally gets to be president can't exactly be said to have a mandate from the people. The people, y'know, us - the bleary eyed and groggy ones stuck in traffic while a steam roller rolls out the new Stop & Shop entrance. Were either of the two presidents-not-quite-elect particularly interested in stopping construction of more strip malls?

Oh I need coffee badly. Very badly. No time. Time to wash the litter boxes. Time to wash the litter boxes.

Don't stop thinking about tomorrow - won't get fooled again - except he left out that part about "meet the new boss, same as the old boss". Where was I? Late and without coffee.

Roy's already there but hasn't started washing any dishes yet. He must not have been waiting for me long. The cats are not bleary eyed and groggy but the people are.

Sid who always has company in his cage, has a full house today. Sid's cage is turning into a colony. Even Frisco, who never ventures out of his litter box let alone his cage, is now hunkered down in Sid's litter box.

Sandy is on the big yellow bucket, except when he starts tearing through the wrapper on Roy's donut. He steals huge chunks of donut while Roy is petting Stormy. Later he knocks over an open box of CatDog cheese crackers while jumping back and forth from the top of the big yellow bucket to the top of the radio on top of the fridge. He makes a mess, that Sandy. He's so cute. Wish he didn't bite. Whoa, he tries to bite me through the sleeve of my flannel shirt. Ah, he's so much like Wilbur...

The election's too close to call. Sandy's too close to my arm. And the long dark cold baseball-less winter isn't just close, it's already upon us. So I wash dishes, then litter boxes, then one cat carrier, then the community litter boxes. So I take pictures of Emma and Mandy for the web page. Did I do Mandy last week already? No matter, this is a better picture. Next thing I know it's 11:30. Time flies when you're surrounded by cats.

It's freezing cold in Angelina's and unusually busy considering it's not noon yet. The CNN Headline News is on the TV. Bleary eyed people waiting for pizza and subs stare at the unchanging election results. The news reporters all sound so urgent: "This just in, they're still counting the votes in Florida." By the time I finish my veggie sub I am shivering. And I still haven't gotten any coffee. What is wrong with me?

Next stop Fowle's. By the way, it's warmer outside on State Street than in Angelina's. Come to think of it, Newburyport is about 10 degrees warmer than Salisbury. What up with that? Ahh, coffee.

I drink the coffee in the car while I attempt to look for birds. The salt pannes has only black ducks and gadwalls. The north pool as seen from the overlook is empty. The bird life is very quiet at the moment and I'm getting a headache. I'm still drinking coffee so am not sure this is a caffeine-withdrawal headache. Maybe it's an election night hangover headache. Or a gee it's dark in winter headache. Or, most likely, a my sinuses are swollen from allergy to all these mold spores in the air.

Even though it's gotten gray again, I notice more flowers still in bloom. There's a huge patch of celandine next to the board walk from Lot 7 to the beach so after my walk on the beach, I take more celandine pictures. On the way back to the gate I spot more evening lychnis in different spot from yesterday's, and some evening primrose that's either just opening or just closing.

OK, one wildflower book says celandine flowers through August. The other one says through July. Evening lychnis and evening primrose both flower through September. I guess September-flowering plants could conceivably still be in bloom in November if there hasn't been a frost, but July or August seems like a stretch. Too bad I haven't been keeping wildflower records as long as I've been keeping bird records. I don't have any previous years' records to look back at.

I've still got the headache and intend to go straight home to take a nap. Somehow, the car turns toward Salisbury Beach instead. A flock of snow buntings flies over my car and lands in the road. Birding turns out to be easier here for two reasons. One is that I'm finally awake. Two is that the sky is clearing so there's more light. The boat ramps are rich in shorebirds. The parking lots are rich in gulls as always (though no good ones). Butler's Toothpick is rich in seals, and the river provides the strange sight of a Coast Guard boat listing to one side and I think actually aground ...