A reedy, insistent whine of “Kill-dee!” alerted me to this handsome plover with its roundish head, signature double breast bands and dark, massive eyes ringed
Author: M. Kathy Raines
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“Did you see any birds?!” an enthusiast asks. Another replies, resignedly, “No, not really, just trash birds.” While we may not say this, we often
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Thinking they were seagulls, I once paid them little mind. Then a whitish gray “gull”, like a fluttering, suspended marionette, hovered for minutes, legs a-dangle,
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A slowly curving line, like the groove of an ice skate, invisibly traced the nighttime resaca. A glance upwards revealed the artist—a strange night bird,
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The striking bird—its white chest seemingly splattered with crimson paint—hopped about with his female companion in the grass at the South Padre Island Convention Center
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Wings wheel, sans flutter, Ice dancer gliding on one leg, Bicycler coasting downhill. Grackles and crows flap-flap-flap, Regal hawks do not so sail, You who