Birds – Page 5 – Birding Boomers

Alaska Tour Part 2 – Fairbanks

July 25, 2015joannie65355 Comments

I’d like to say we explored Fairbanks…to say that we found all those special places you find when you have the time to explore and really get to know a place. But I cannot. Our time in Fairbanks (and every other Alaska city we visited) was way too brief and mostly spent with the tour group at the usual tour sites. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve been around enough to know that the tours pretty much hit the hot spots and make sure you get a good taste of the city and a boatload of information about the city you’re visiting. And, I have lived within a 50 mile radius of Washington, DC for some years and, yet, I still have not been to all the Smithsonian museums; I will also say that it is a curious fact that, while we (humans) do not always take the time to fully explore our own neighborhoods, we feel like we’ve messed up bigtime if we go somewhere on vacation and do not run ourselves ragged trying to see every little thing.

But this time, I wanted to at least see a little more of this city and maybe get in a little birding since Alaska is known for the birds that migrate there in the summertime. So, we had a plan to get there at least twenty four hours before the tour started and do a wee bit of exploring. But, if you have followed my blogs in the past, you know that my plans do not always work out as planned. (Why is that so, do you think?) Things do work out eventually and mostly for the better but rarely ever the way that I planned them. But this time, I wasn’t too detailed in my plans. I was gonna be flexible and laid back….just take things as they came….just play it by ear….just roll with the flow. I figured we’d get there, we’d settle into our room, we’d check with the concierge, we’d figure out the lay of the land as it were, and then we’d mosey around a bit and see what we could see. I was doing good…….right up until we got to the “get there” part.

It seems that Mother Nature had other plans. It started right here in Maryland at BWI. We just couldn’t get out of the airport. We loaded onto the plane right on time…everything looking good…all copacetic and then they off-loaded us. Seems there was a thunderstorm somewhere in the Midwest and the FAA had decided to ground all the planes to the east. Understanding quickly that we were not going to make the Fairbanks connection in Minneapolis, we desperately called the airline and tried to switch out our connecting flight to another. It took about an hour or maybe two – just shy of the amount of time before the thunderstorm out west ran its course and the FAA allowed us to load up again. Unfortunately, the small delay cost us the flight to Fairbanks and we had to switch to Anchorage instead which meant we would leave Minneapolis sometime around 11:00 PM and arrive in Anchorage at maybe 1:00AM (their time) dog tired in need of a place to sleep for a few hours before we could continue on up to Fairbanks at mid-morning.

Not great but still moving westward…in the right direction. We had departed from Minneapolis in the dark – fully night time but, as we flew, we found the famous Alaska midnight sun…or at least the Canadian/US version of it such that it felt like we were continuously flying into the sunset even well past midnight. I was sitting on the US-lower 48 side of the plane but could look across the aisle and see the Canada/Alaska side. On my side, dark; on the other side, light (well, pinkish sunset light). I amused myself playing a little game by looking back and forth and thinking, “daytime” when I looked to one side of the plan…then, “nighttime” when I looked on the other. (Lack of sleep and flying all day will do things to you and it really doesn’t take much to amuse me.) And I thought it was a pain to have the delays but it meant we’d be flying from Anchorage to Fairbanks in broad daylight so would get great views of Denali Park and Mount McKinley/Denali from the air. Silly me.

The view from my seat on the Alaska Airlines commuter plane – prop plane – was, you guessed it, was a view of the propeller. Most everything I saw was, well, airplane.

But, I was headed in the right direction so it was all good.

Just a note on a couple things I noticed about the airports in Alaska that you just do not see at any other major city in the US. First, at 1:00 AM, the Anchorage airport is pretty much empty. Likewise, it was empty when we went back at 8:00 AM. And, while we got a hotel room for the few hours we were in Anchorage, many people apparently didn’t.

So there were “sleepers” scattered around the airport. Yes, I have seen people sleeping in other airports when flights are delayed around holidays and such but rarely do I see them so much anymore. In Alaska, they really settle in and get comfortable….not just slumped over in those uncomfortable seats….but boots off, laid out comfortable. Well, if you’re delayed and need the rest, might as well join them.

So, after almost twenty-four hours in the air and airports, we arrived in Fairbanks. When we arrived, the sky was cloudy and a bit overcast but the temperature was good and, while most of our extra day was gone, we still had a few hours before we met up with the tour group. Great! We got to the hotel, got settled in, and grabbed lunch. We met a great couple from Cape May, NJ at lunch that had just finished up a tour and were taking a couple days before heading home. They turned out to be birders too (of course, considering they were from Cape May) and regaled us with stories about the birding and adding thirty-three life birds to their list while on the tour and cruise and gave us some info about a couple sites right there in Fairbanks and how to catch the shuttle bus to get to the sites. All good….so far. By the time, we got back to the room to get our binoculars and cameras, the rain was falling……and falling….and falling….steady, hard, and continuous. So, the birding and most exploring outside was out for the day.

For those who may be planning a trip in the future, the two places to go birding in Fairbanks that were recommended are the water retention ponds near the airport (relatively easy to find although not so easy to get a taxi to) and an old farm that has been turned into a bird sanctuary (particularly for Sandhill Cranes) called Creamer’s Fields. For me, it’ll have to wait for the next visit.

So, we watched the rain and took a nap…after all, we were tired. We met up with the tour group for dinner and from then on, traveled with the group. We got lucky and got a great tour guide (Randy) who was experienced and well-informed and well-organized. He took care of everything and did it so well that the pain of going from place to place and keeping up with your luggage was minimalized to the point of being non-existent.

As for Fairbanks, all was not lost. The tour group would spend another day in Fairbanks doing a riverboat tour and visiting a gold dredge. I woke that morning with a million things running through my head…the usual stuff….what to take on the day tour and what to leave behind in the hotel room. I am not sure why I fret over these things…..the answer is always the same – wallet, cash and/or credit card, light jacket, sunglasses, camera, binoculars, extra camera battery, phone, husband….you know, the usual things. I expected it to be a long day and it was but I went out with my pockets loaded…with stuff…not cash.

We started with the riverboat cruise. The “Discovery” is a family owned and operated concession that starts you off in a big ole souvenir shop (well, duh!!!) and brings you right back there at the end of the cruise. This cruise would be on the Chena and would go up to the intersection with the Nenana, or was it the Tanana? As I’ve noted, the boat has been owned and operated by the same family for more than fifty years. And, the riverboat is a real riverboat in that the paddlewheel actually drives the boat…although the paddlewheel is not driven by a steam engine….but, bottom line, the paddlewheel is not just for show. The boat tour guide was great and related to the original family although I forget how…maybe an uncle or something. He turned out to be a great example of how best to do these things. He had taken time on his own over the years to go up and down the river and meet and get to know the people who lived there on the river.

He knew everyone’s name and had quite a few colorful stories about the people living there on the river. Of course, he could have just made up the names and stories – how would we know if they were true or not? But he was entertaining all the same. And the people along the river all came out of their houses and waved as the boat passed…..just made you feel a bit like Mark Twain on the Mississippi…so, of course, we all waved back just like we knew them too.

There were two stops along the river. The first was at the river home (Trailbreaker Kennels) of David Monson, the husband of the late Iditarod winner, Susan Butcher. The boat pulled up in the river alongside the house and David brought out some of the dogs and gave a nice talk (which we could hear due to the technological marvels of radio transmission) on the dogs and the race and gave us a summertime version of “mushing” with the dogs pulling a 4-wheeled ATV. We were also treated with puppies from the line of Susan’s favorite dog, Granite. (Granite has a wonderful story in his own right…you can find it here.) I learned quite a bit about the race that I didn’t know although I had followed the race on television for some years.

One thing I didn’t know that surprised me was that Susan had taken her sled team up Mount McKinley. Yep, she summited the mountain with her team. Now, for the life of me I cannot fathom why anyone would take a whole team of dogs mountain climbing…especially that mountain. Okay, there’s always “to say that you did it” but, otherwise, it seems like it would be just torture for all involved to summit with dogs. Do you suppose she got little crampons and stuff for the dogs? Did she take them up one at a time or did she have other mountain climbers to help with the dogs? Did they each have their own Sherpa? (Wait, that is another mountain altogether.) Anyway, it just boggles the mind.

The second stop was a replica of an Athabascan village, the Chena Indian Village. Now, I usually stay away from these type things because they are usually too touristy and not really representative of the way the natives actually lived. But the boat stopped there so we got off and followed the group through the village. And, it turned out to be a very good stop. The village was divided into several stops with presentations at each location so that everyone wasn’t crowded at the same place at the same time.

The presentations were made by young Native Americans with representatives from several different tribal groups. The young ladies were mostly college students who had moved to Fairbanks to attend the University and, like all college students, were working during the summer. They gave a good overview of life in Alaska in bygone days as well as today since many of the cultural traditions they spoke of are still practiced at home in their villages.

After the cruise, we went back at the souvenir shop (of course) and dining hall for lunch. Lunch at the Discovery dining hall was one of the best meals we had in Alaska (and that counts the meals on the ship). You wouldn’t have thought it would be considering it was attached to a souvenir shop with all the kitsch and trappings of a joint but the food turned out to be quite delicious. There was a trapper’s stew with crusty bread and a salad with a locally made huckleberry vinaigrette that was unbelievably good. I’d have bought a bottle in the store if I’d realized it was so good and that was the only place on earth where you could get it. (Okay, I should have realized this but didn’t.)

One last note about the Discovery and the souvenir shop….they had a room (more a freezer really) that was set up at 40 degrees below zero that you could go into for a few minutes (long enough for them to take your photo to sell to you later….well, of course) so you could see how 40 below feels. Having lived in Alaska, I knew how 40 below feels and didn’t feel the need to go into a freezer but Jerry (my braver half) gave it a go. He went in without a jacket (of course) and came out with a bit of a stunned look on his face and maybe just a little swear word that only the gentleman manning the door was able to hear clearly. Yep, 40 below is just that cold.

Moving on after lunch, we headed across Fairbanks to visit Gold Dredge Number 8. I have to admit that I love the show on the Discovery Channel about gold mining in the Yukon. Last season, one of the characters named Tony Beets spent the whole summer taking apart an old dredge that he bought, moving it, and putting it back together on his claim. It was a tremendous undertaking and I had wondered if he would ever get that old dredge to work again. He did and it was a sight…I would have liked to see that old rusted up dredge operate again in person rather than just on the telly.

So, seeing a gold dredge up close even if it wasn’t functional anymore was a cool experience….very cool. There was a little train that carried you from the park entrance to the dredge that had stops along the way with replicas of different gold mining scenes that were used to tell you about everything you never knew you wanted to know about gold mining in Alaska and corrected everything you had heard on that television show that got it wrong…or so they say.

But the dredge itself was the star of the show. And after a short presentation, we actually got to go onto and inside of the dredge and take a look around. Now, if you think I enjoyed this, you have no idea how much Jerry enjoyed it. After all, he is a man and most men love machines… especially gigantic machines. We looked at all the cogs and gears and wheels and buckets and talked to the onsite guy who had all the answers and inspected everything….at least once, some things maybe twice. I am so ready now for the next season of Gold Rush Alaska….I got all the information I need and then some. (If you click on that link, you’ll see a photo of Tony Beets right there on the front page and, to see the recap on the dredge relocation, click here.)

And, lest you think that we didn’t get our money’s worth, we also got to pan for gold. Well, ye-ah! They had a marvelous set up for this. We did not even have to go down to the creek and stumble around on the rocks looking for something to pan. They had a big shed set up with troughs of water available where you could sit on a bench in relative comfort and have at it. They gave us each a pan and a little flour sack filled with dirt and rocks which we were instructed to dump into the pan, add a little water, and commence to panning. After a bit of panning, if you hadn’t come up with any gold, you could call one of the helpers who would give you more personal hands on instruction. I guess I was being too gentle with swirling the water around….I didn’t want to spill out the sand with my gold in it after all….so after the second time I called the gentleman over to help me, he just took the pan (not very patient) and swish, swish, dip and swish again and there it was……gold right there in my pan.

We took our gold and headed on up to the souvenir shop (of course) to get it assayed and discovered that all together we had scored a whole $33 worth of gold for our effort. Being the good people that they were, they offered to buy it…or better yet, to sell me a lovely little locket to hold my gold with a nice gold chain….for a mere $34 dollars and some change. (Actually, they would have sold me a more expensive piece of jewelry for my gold…but I opted for the less expensive charm & chain.) This worked out to be one of those credit card commercials – you know, cost of the trip to Alaska, cost of the ticket for the tour, cost of the pan & sack of sand, etc.,…….finding gold flakes in your very own pan – priceless!

The gold dredge stop on the tour came with a little extra in that the dredge park was near the Alaska oil pipeline. So, before we hopped on the little train that would take us to the dredge, we got to hang out and take photos of the pipeline and hear all about how the pipeline was built and how big it is and how much oil pumps through in a day.…meanwhile, most of us were standing under it taking selfies and pretending like we were holding the pipeline up like Atlas so it didn’t fall down on anyone …..okay, maybe that was just me but I’m sure others would have done that if they’d thought of it before I did.

(For info on the Trans-Alaska Pipeline, try this link.)

Now, let’s see. We saw the pipeline, the old gold dredge, and took a riverboat tour. And I saw the airport on my way in. That’s pretty much the whole city of Fairbanks, right? What else could there possibly be to see there? Oh yeah, when we were on the bus, we passed a Walmart (yes, they have them even out in the boonies) and a McDonald’s – most northernmost one in the US. Hey, that’s certainly worth seeing….but, rats! The bus was going too fast and I couldn’t get a photo of either one. It is always the photo you miss that would have been the best one.

Okay, one last factoid about Fairbanks and Walmart. Now, everyone knows that it gets very cold in Alaska and one must have a head-bolt heater and a battery blanket on one’s vehicle that must be plugged into an electrical outlet at night (or when the vehicle is parked and not running for any extended length of time) or the oil will thicken up to a frozen sludge and the battery will freeze up and said vehicle will not run anymore. Now, I have heard that Walmart welcomes RV’ers to most, if not all, of its facilities in the US so that, if you do not have a place to park your RV when you’re on a trip, you can always overnight at the Walmart. Well, the same goes in Alaska and it turns out that the Walmart is gracious enough to provide electrical outlets in its parking lot for campers to use in the winter. But there are not really that many tourists in Alaska in the winter but, according to our guide in Fairbanks, some residents have campers and just hang out at the Walmart in the wintertime. As Lobo would sing it, “me and you and a dog named Boo”¹ living off the land…….. over at the Walmart. (Okay, if you’re humming the song now and want to sing along – try this link.)

“Me and You and A Dog Named Boo”; Artist-Lobo; Album – Introducing Lobo; 1971; Label – Big Tree

Chasing a Bird – Florida Scrub Jays

April 16, 2015joannie65354 Comments

We were on the hunt as soon as we arrived in Florida. Yes, we had other things to do – friends and relatives to visit – but I was determined that somehow or another while we were down there, I was going to get an opportunity to see and photograph a Florida Scrub Jay. Of course, it wasn’t our first trip to Florida and it certainly wasn’t the first time I had been determined to see a Scrub Jay. Just because they are considered by some to be a rare find and just because there has been a whole lot of development in the areas where Scrub Jays like to live making them increasingly hard to find and just because I had tried several times before DID NOT mean I wasn’t going to see a Scrub Jay on this trip. I was determined and that was that.

I had briefly spotted a lone Scrub Jay on the Black Point Wildlife Drive at Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge (NWR) way back in May 2007 but I just didn’t feel that I had gotten a good long look at the bird and I certainly did not get a photograph….not even a blurry one. Since we were starting our “month of birding in Florida” at Merritt, I was optimistic that I would get to see one…at least one…and would get that prized photograph and I didn’t care if it was blurry or not….the point was to spot that bird. But, high hopes or not, as the days went by without spotting a Scrub Jay, I was beginning to give up on this bird.

It’s not like we didn’t see birds at Merritt. We saw plenty of birds there…in fact, more birds than anywhere else we visited. And we saw lots of “big” birds at Merritt. One of my daughters who sometimes likes to go birding with us (you know, just hanging out with the old folks meandering around looking at the birds and flowers) once told us that she only liked “BIG” birds. As she went on more birding outings with us and as she saw more and more really nice birds, the definition of “big” expanded. At first, it was all Great Blue Herons – her favorite big bird. And, of course, Great Egrets and Bald Eagles – all plenty big as birds go. But then, I asked her about hummingbirds – nothing big about a hummingbird…although they do look plenty big and fierce when they get territorial and puff up their chests and spread their tail feathers out wide to bully other hummingbirds who might be interested in getting to the sugar water feeders too. Daughter T allowed that maybe “big” could also mean birds that have big attitudes….like the tiny little hummingbird. From that point on, it was all over – absolutely any bird she liked was a “Big” bird.

She would have loved Merritt – plenty of birds there – big and small – everything from Herons to Egrets to Ibises to Roseate Spoonbills right down to American Avocets, Tree Swallows, and Woodpeckers. But no Scrub Jays.

As we traveled throughout the state, we had even gotten so lucky as to see a pair of Sandhill Cranes with babies – two beautiful long-legged colts scrabbling along behind their parents picking bugs out of the grass. But no Scrub Jays.

We checked everywhere. We were nearing the end of our time – a whole month and plenty of birds but we just couldn’t find those Scrub Jays. We met other birders at different preserves and parks who told us all about where they saw Scrub Jays but we just didn’t have any luck. We ran into a couple at Rookery Bay down near Naples who had been coming to Florida in the winter for many years. They told us that Scrub Jays used to be very prevalent right there on Shell Island Road and that birders would flock (yes, pun intended…I couldn’t resist) to the area to see and feed the Scrub Jays. Yep, the birds would come out to the side of the road to be fed every evening. But the refuge managers and rangers, being wiser, stopped the practice thinking that the Jays would become way too comfortable with people. When the people stopped feeding the Jays, the jays stopped coming out to be fed and few had been seen in the area since. Nice story but it didn’t help my quest any knowing I was maybe ten years too late to see those darned birds.

So, on Sunday before we were scheduled to leave Florida (exactly three days left), we headed out from the condo where we were staying and decided to go looking for a state park I had read about but wanted to see mostly because it had a pretty cool name – Catfish Creek State Park. I love locations that have names that give you an idea of what you might see when you get there. I do have to say though that my luck in these places is not so good. Ask me one day about Flamingo Point in the Everglades. But I keep trying and Catfish Creek sounded pretty inviting. In retrospect, they probably could have named the place something like Alligator Cypress Swamp and Scrubby Sand Trails considering what we found there…but I think maybe there is already a place called Alligator Cypress Swamp in Florida.

Truth be told, the creek was a bit easier to find than the state park. We drove south on Route 27 through a quaint but totally deserted town, down through a great many orchards and farmer’s fields with lakes (or maybe ponds) here and there. We finally came to Fire Tower Road, which according to the maps, appeared to end at the state park. But we did not find a state park at the end of the road. The road ended at a gate with a big overhead sign proclaiming this place to be the FFA Training Center. This did not really stop us because we thought maybe the state park and the training center might be the same place or at least one within the other, or maybe the sign was just a mistake albeit a huge one. (Well, if you are going to make a sign that says the wrong thing for a state park, you might as well make a big one.) There was a huge lake, Lake Pierce, at the park and that was a second good reason to proceed right on through the gate…along with quite a few other cars all of a sudden.

We were a bit mystified about all those other cars that had suddenly shown up on what had been pretty much a deserted road just minutes before we got there. One minute there is no one in sight and then next minute we’re in a traffic jam of sorts right there in the middle of nowhere. So to get out of the parade and to find a nice quiet spot to have lunch, we turned down a side road leading to a boat ramp down by the lake. Wouldn’t you know it, several of the cars turned in to this dead end one lane road right behind us..…and the road was a little too narrow to allow everyone to turn around easily to go back to the main road. We managed to park off to the side enough to let everyone else turn around and get back on their way and we also managed to find a quiet spot to eat lunch all the while wondering what the heck was going on and where had all the cars come from.

Turns out the FFA Training Center was not the state park and has nothing to do with the state park which is an unimproved preserve that had only a small parking lot that we had passed on our way to the end of the road. And it turns out the Training Center has a beautiful lakeside pavilion, a lodge, cabins, camping grounds, and a large training center (of course) that is rented out for weddings and other special occasions. And the day we decided to visit, the facility was rented out for a wedding which explained where all the cars were going but does not explain why they followed us down the lane to the boat ramp. I can only guess that the wedding guests didn’t know their way and just followed us right off in the wrong direction.

After we had lunch and took a look at the boat ramp and floating pier scaring a small alligator we didn’t know was there as we stepped onto that pier, we went up to the lodge and got some information about the state park that we missed and about Catfish Creek which, it turns out, runs right through the training facility and into the lake. So, we were at least getting to see Catfish Creek which include Cypress Trees and a couple nice-sized alligators which explains why I thought maybe the name of the place should be something to do with alligators and cypress trees.

So we missed the state park on the way in but got to explore another park while managing to stay away from the aforementioned wedding festivities. And we spotted a Common Ground Dove and several Little Blue Herons and, on the way out of the facility, a Bald Eagle’s nest. There were no adult Bald Eagles to be seen but there was a small head poking up from the nest so we parked on the side of the road and contented ourselves with checking out the eaglet hoping that an adult would eventually show up. But it didn’t. We moved on down the road stopping here and there to take photos of wild flowers – Lupine I believe – and looking for the state park we’d missed on the way in.

We were counting our blessings and thinking about all the wonderful birds and other creatures we had seen while in Florida and I had pretty much given up on my hopes (and steadfast determination) of seeing a Scrub Jay. It was getting late in the day but we decided to stop in at the state park for a minute anyway – maybe walk down on of the trails a piece – before heading back to Orlando for the night. In the meantime, we were creeping along in the car looking for the park and birding the hedges by the sides of the road.

I spotted a Northern Mockingbird perched on a power line and thought, “another mockingbird” following us all over the state. Of course, it’s not the same mockingbird…they are quite common in Florida and we’ve seen them everywhere….but for the past few years, we’ve imagined that it is the very same mockingbird following us around all over the country. You know there has to be a story behind this.

Some years ago, on a trip to North Carolina, my husband had decided to chop down a bunch of Pokeweeds that were growing at the edge of the field by the house. The pokeweed was heavy with purple berries and the Blue Jays and Mockingbirds and every other bird around had been having a great time eating those berries. There was one Mockingbird who had laid claim to the berry bushes and had stationed himself high up on the top of an old poplar tree snag where he could keep an eye on those berries and head off any other birds presumptuous enough to think they could get some berries too. He, the bird, was not at all happy when he, the husband, came out with a swing blade and started whaling away at all that pokeweed. The mockingbird proceeded to scold and fuss at the crazy human for a good thirty minutes or so until he, the husband, stopped cutting down the berries. That weekend, every time we walked out of the house, the bird was there to berate us for even considering cutting down those berry bushes. Since that time, we’ve been careful to leave the berry bushes alone and I am reminded that the Mockingbird network has put out a “be on the lookout (BOLO)” for the dastardly low good for nothing scoundrel who was cutting down the berry bushes. So, it was only natural, when I saw the Mockingbird, I mentally noted mockingbird and turned to my husband and told him the “boys” were following us again and he’d best keep a low profile.

But the Mockingbird looked odd sitting up there on the wire. He was in bad light against the sun and a long ways away so I thought maybe it was another bird – maybe a Loggerhead Shrike. We had mistaken a Shrike for a Mockingbird before so I figured we should slow down and check this bird out a little closer.

Lo & behold, there was a Florida Scrub Jay in all his beauty and splendor!

We stopped the car and I jumped out to try to get a better look and a decent photograph. The lighting was terrible but the bird was cooperating and didn’t fly away. Even better, he called out to an unseen mate who answered. Then, just like that, there were birds all around us. We must have happened upon a small feeding flock that included Red Bellied and Downy Woodpeckers, Titmice, and not one, not two, but six – SIX – beautiful Florida Scrub Jays. We watched and took pictures for maybe forty-five minutes. I was smack dab happy about finding these birds. I thought it might be nice at one point to maybe have a Red-Cockaded Woodpecker show up and join the group – always another rare bird to find, right? But I decided not to push my luck at this point. The Scrub Jays were good enough for me and I wasn’t gonna do any complaining about any other birds we missed along the way.

So, we never quite made it to the state park – not really. We found the parking area which made a convenient place to park off the main road. We watched the birds until they moved on to another place to feed. As we drove away, I spotted a lone sentry high at the tip top of a cypress tree by the side of the road. It wasn’t a Scrub Jay though.

Nope, this time it was indeed a Northern Mockingbird….and yes, he was giving me the old stink eye as if to say, “Yes, it is me and I know you’re the one who chops down berry bushes and you can best believe I am keeping my eyes on you. Now move on down the road and don’t even bother to look back.”

And so we did.

If you’d like to know more about Florida Scrub Jays, look here.

“Me and You and A Dog Named Boo”; Artist-Lobo; Album – Introducing Lobo; 1971; Label – Big Tree