birdwatching, not breastfeeding

Early-morning birdwatching arrived way too early on Saturday, but by then I had received and slept on my new mattress. It's hard to tell how much good it did me on such a short night - in fact I didn't sleep well at all, but did wake up without soreness, which is a good sign. By today I think I've adjusted to it for the most part. It's very firm and is not concave like my other mattress.

Me and Michael headed out to the The Henry A. Wallace Beltsville Agricultural Research Center in Beltsville, Maryland for the International Migratory Bird Day Bird Count (Census) at about 5am. We joined Bryan who had already been there for some time owling and listening for turkeys. I had heard enough turkeys during the week, so we opted to arrive "late" by birding standards. The sun was already up and the mist across the farmlands was dissipating, but the birds were still singing.

The birds were going nuts and singing to beat the band, cooped up as we were due to the rainy weeks beforehand. Even species that normally do their singing from the underbrush were at the tops of the trees competing with other species for space to perform, like this wood thrush. They all wanted a piece of sunshine at the tops of the trees, including buntings, bluebirds, grosbeaks and cedar waxwings. No new species spotted this year, I think we have that area covered for a while.

A summer tananger was singing in the same branches of the same tree as the summer tananger we spotted in 2007. It could have been the same bird, but more likely was of the family that prefers to nest and sing there year after year. These are the things naturalists and biologists notice, and when normally predictable behavior or events change, something is amiss. Like "Hey there's no polar icecap here anymore, and I can't find any polar bears. Something is wrong." If the tananger wasn't there the next summer, something might be up. Or the tananger may find a condo there upon returning in the spring, and would think something was up.

More beehives were in the beehive area than in previous years. I guess they got some funds for more research into why bee colonies have been declining. The hives and their bees looked fine to me, but they all smelled really bad. Maybe they smell that way after weeks of rain, or maybe all the bees have body odor. Maybe at some point they get sick of each others' bee b/o and go solo. But you won't find them at Home Depot like all the partnered bees.

Then we went to a new spot near a swamp which I hadn't been to before and spotted a bald eagle near its nest. The carp were having a good time in the flooded stream and were jumping and surfacing all over the place. Maybe they were channel catfish, I don't know, the water was too muddy to tell.

After birding, I went to go do mega-laundry at the ghetto-ass laundromat on Swann Street to wash all the cold weather quilts and covers to be put away for the summer. Some day we hope laundromat machines will take debit cards instead of handfuls of quarters. Handfuls of Quarters are retarded, unless you're at Chuck E. Cheese's. But I'll bet they take debit cards at Chuck E. Cheese's these days too.

Everyone went to see Star Trek over the weekend, and by now I've heard how awesome it is and I know the whole plot as well. But I will still go during the week when the crowds are a bit thinner. Did you know that Vulcan gets destroyed in this movie? Neither did I, but everyone told me it did.

If they weren't going to see Star Trek, the rest of my partnered friends were being homebound all weekend and breastfeeding from their moobs or something. DC is a tough city for the single 30something. By your 30s you start to realize DC is a great town for 20somethings exploring their relationships, but by your 30s many of your friends are hooked up - your straight friends are busy producing young and your gay friends are coupled and increasingly become domestically inflexible. They are no fun anymore, lose all spontaneity and never want to leave their house. You're glad for their relationship success, but part of you must mourn, for you will not hear from them as much as you used to. This is why you only see some gay people at Home Depot. I don't necessarily like to go out all the time, but one must to meet people. Fortunately I have social 20something friends to do things with, but they are often very hyper and lack perspective. Regardless, when they partner up I will lose them to domesticity and breastfeeding as well, and will mourn their loss but will celebrate their inevitable moob development due to immobility and inflexible domestic schedules.

With all this extra time free from breastfeeding responsibilities or loitering at Home Depot, I took a nice bike ride up the C&O Canal towpath trail today. Geese were rearing their goslings, and the trails were full of people strolling and biking. I went to a favorite spot where I normally could hop across rocks to see the sights, but the river was swollen from all the rain we've been having and I didn't want to muddy my fine white running shoes. So instead I found a log and sat to make Mother's Day calls. Mom is fine, I forgot my nephew's birthday, and mom was wondering if my niece's prom dress was too slutty. I saw pictures and I thought the dress was fabulous. During the call I saw an orchard oriole, brown tree creeper, tufted titmice, and a spotted sandpiper.

Happy 15th burfday to Metro Weekly. When I first arrived in DC in 1997 or so I thought it had always been here. May your pages never suffer a tragic Font Fight.