For most of my life, east has been the boring, west the exotic. (Parenthetical: this rule was shaken up by a three-year sojourn in California, but, for the majority of my years, it holds true.) Western Meadowlark deserved a detour. Once, I drove (or, more accurately, my dad drove) an hour to see a Bullock's Oriole. Today, the poles flipped, and east became exciting.
Eastern Meadowlark, a first(ish) record for Boulder County. Instead of straining for the bubble of a rogue Western, Marcel and I strained for the sweet slurs of an errant Eastern at the periphery of its range. Yes, there it was, therefore making today, the ninth of July of 2013, the first day that I have seen Sturnella magna, Pygmy Nuthatch, and Sage Thrasher in the same day.
Later I found myself entombed in a kayak drifting across a very large reservoir with Joel. Life is absurd sometimes.