Bird Brain

Bird brain:  It could be a derogatory label. But I will just say I have birds on the brain.

As I wrote earlier this winter, I've been on a quest for photographing a pheasant. I see plenty of pheasants. But no one gave them the memo that I would like for them to:

1. Stand still.
2. Stand in a location with good lighting.
3. Come close enough to the road for my camera.

It hasn't just been a desire this winter. I've wanted a pheasant photo for years. 

And it finally happened. 

It's not perfect, but it's the best I've ever gotten.

 Most of them looked like this ...

... somewhat blurry ...

The backyard cardinals are somewhat more cooperative, but I still have to stealthily shoot through the back porch windows.

 (Yes, those windows should probably be washed if I'm going to attempt photography through them!)

As I was coming out of the pasture in the feed truck one snowy day, I found a meadowlark crouched down on a hay bale. It was one of those frigid days, so I guess he was too cold to fly away.

This better photo was from a fence-fencing escapade a couple of years ago.

 

While I'd like the pheasants and the cardinals to hold still for their closeups, we'd prefer that the snow geese depart from our wheat and silage fields. We don't really care about them hanging out on the silage ground, since it was harvested last September. But they invariably drift over onto the nearby wheat ground.

We chased thousands of them off the fields before feeding cattle a couple of days. 

While hunters are glad to see them, they do a lot of damage eating the green wheat in our fields. Hungry geese can decimate a wheat field fairly quickly.

Uninvited guests can wreak havoc at a party. No Kansas wheat farmer wants to provide a never-ending buffet for tens of thousands of geese. But, migrating geese evidently saw an all-you-can-eat buffet sign flashing green from the heavens. And they said, "Don't mind if I do!"

Farmers try to send them on their way by honking their horns and making more drivebys than a police cruiser trying to clean up a shady neighborhood. But about as soon as farmers moseyed on down the road to the next location, the geese circled back for another taste of tender green wheat.

While hunters might have enjoyed the influx of geese in Central Kansas, wheat farmers prefer the feathered beasts find their buffet elsewhere, since they can eat a young wheat field to bare ground faster than a teenage boy and his friends can plow through a bag of chips.