Yesterday afternoon I went to look for the warbler as it would be a lifer 
for me.
I found the markers noted in the previous postings and I even found one of 
it's reported buddy hermit thrushes. But alas the target itself was not 
found.

As I was walking away I reflected on how birding can be humbling. At one 
point I had seen a small bird hoping on the ground and put my bins up to 
study. While staring I slipped on the mud underneath me and hit the deck. 
It would have made a great video...I was just standing still one moment and 
the next moment arms and legs flying to try to catch myself. Only my pride 
was injured. Then a couple minutes later I see another small hopping 
movement but all I could make out was a big eye. Maybe an Ovenbird! I move 
to get a better view and re-spot it. It was that wonderful species called 
rabbit!

Oh well, a humbling hour along Boulder Creek on a beautiful spring day is 
better than many other hours!
To heal my wounded psyche I stopped by Mustards Last Stand for an Italian 
and fries.

Ron Bolton
Berthoud



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