“Are you from England?”

I’ve been working on my pictures from Mexico this evening. They’re about half done, but it’s going to be another day before I can process all of them, so in the meantime, here’s an update with a couple of funny stories.

Today I went on a trip upriver. The driving time there and back was long and the birding very slow. Perhaps our best bird of the day was a Clay-colored Robin at San Ignacio. That made most of the participants very happy. That was good, since we missed White-collared Seedeater everywhere we tried for it and couldn’t even get sparrows at Starr County Park. As Michael Retter, a friend and fellow leader said, “That warm wind is the kiss of death.”

I also am baffled at just how good chiggers are at what they do. I’ve been liberally using DEET - on my feet, lower legs, and around my waist. The little buggers just kept on crawling and bit me on the butt today.

There were several other memorable moments of the day, dealing with people instead of birds.

We had a teenage kid from France that was probably 6 foot 8. He was accompanying his grandmother to the festival. He spoke excellent English (albeit with a slight French accent), and was very enthusiatic about birding, seeing something like 23 new birds today.

“Are you from England?”

When we rolled into Starr County Park for lunch, we noticed a sign that said “Park Fees - $2.00.” We figured this was only if you were camping overnight, but seeing as we had a very full bus and didn’t have $115 for an entry fee if they demanded it, Richard Gibbons and I hopped off the bus to go talk to them and make sure everything was okay.

Richard was chosen just because he’s a genius and good at everything he does. I was chosen partly for my Texas accent and deep understanding of the culture (something foreign and often baffling to the other guides from the northeast and west coasts). At least that was the plan. I don’t know where the couple watching over the park were from. They had an RV, and were friendly enough. After getting the OK to unload the bus, Richard went back before people got restless, and I staid to talk with them because, well, they were still talking to us when Richard left.

“Are you from England?,” the lady asked me. I paused for a very long moment, looked at her and said, “No maam, and nobody’s ever asked me that before.” She then remarked to her husband, “He sounds like a cockney. Now it took me a fair amount of googling to figure out what a cockney is, but I was still pretty sure even when I heard her say it that I didn’t qualify, and I assured her I had lived my whole life in Texas. All the other guides and I laughed about it the rest of the day. Michael and I figured out that my response to her question should have been, “Yes, I’m from England, but the panhandle. They sound different there.”

“I ruptured an artery on Monday”

You think I’m crazy about birding? We had a couple that was following us today in their own car, instead of taking the bus. I’ve never seen this in my three previous years of guiding here. It’s just not done that way. At the end of the day, I asked why they were in their own car. Her reply shocked me.

“I ruptured an artery on Monday - at Laguna Atascoa. Tripped over a curb and fell. My leg was squirting blood everywhere, and my husband drove 90 to the hospital and got me to there in 10 minutes. The sutures are still leaking,” as she showed me her white canvas shoe with blood soaking into the side of it, “and the car’s in case we have to make another quick trip to the hospital.”

With as straight a face as possible, I responded, “Well, the important thing is that you’re back in the field. Glad to see it didn’t slow you down any.”

She and her husband were very friendly. She kept up all day and never complained. But I do believe if that happens to me anytime in the next two weeks, I’ll be in the hotel ordering room service.