A line of thunderstorms formed across the width of Northern Indiana early this afternoon.
It reached here after falling apart, and rained for a few too-short minutes.
Whether it was too hot this morning, or too wet this evening, no red tails enlivened life today.
I went to the carp pool to check if the rains allowed them to leave the pond, but there was no runoff in the creek. One fish was over four pounds, so they are not suffering.
Back east, there was a flash of blue into a tree, beautiful glimpse. My thought was blue grosbeak, but my conclusion is an Eastern Bluebird. Still, just a guess.
I went north up "Kestrel Alley", always good for American Kestrel sightings. I try to hold the road in abeyance. When (if?) I get a falconry apprentice license, my trapping target is the female mentioned in an earlier post.
Females are called falcons, and males, tiercels, being approximately one third the size of the female. (Okay, this distinction was presented previously, but it's bound to be on the exam for the license, so I'm reminding me, too.)
Our tiercel kestrel may be the most beautifully colored bird in North America.
The colors are muted by tropics standards, but a kestrel's aversion to forests and woods approaches phobia, as these are the haunts of accipitiers (sharp-shinned and Cooper's hawks, and, north a bit, goshawks). All would consider the kestrel a meal, except the gos, who would grab a kestrel out of boredom, and still find room for an ox.
So I risked rousting the big girl again.
At Pipe Creek on Miami CR 950 E, there is a closed gravel pit. The "Kestrel Alley" is a bit north.
On a wire on the road at the pit was a singular silhouette of Indiana birds - a Belted Kingfisher.
A confession of sorts: I haven't seen enough kingfishers, and a sighting is still a Big Deal.
This is the third this summer, and I doubt I've spotted two in any one of the last six decades.
"My" falcon wasn't near the fallow spot, a bit troublesome, not yet worrisome.
She'll be back.