Truly, there are few more constructive ways to spend your Monday morning than firing up the computer, leaning back with a hot, hopefully caffeinated beverage, and watching the weekend birding reports roll in. Gloating about your own best bird of the weekend obviously adds to the fun, especially if you managed to cast eyes on a crippler or can share a gob-smacking photo. But why does birding always have to be about appreciating birds? This relentless positivity will do us all in, mark my words. Better to be bitter once in a while!
So let’s try something new today: What was your WORST bird of the weekend? Tell us in the comments section about the dullest, ugliest, or least interesting bird you observed. If you’ve blogged about your weekend experience (though I don’t know why you would) include a link in your comment.
Allow me to kick off the festivities. I don’t know the species of my worst bird of the weekend, nor did I see it. Instead, I heard a really interesting song, one that had me conjuring early parulas or even more exotic migrants in my front yard. Rushing toward the window, I noticed the radio was on, tuned to a program recorded in a setting far more bird-rich than my own. Don’t you hate when that happens?