At the Fyke Nature Assoc. meeting late September, Marsh Warden Stiles Thomas ended his captivating talk and bird-carving exhibition with a poem called "The Birder's Dirge," which he wrote in March 1986.
Who knew Stiles was a poet?
By popuar request, here it is:
"The Birder's Dirge"
By Stiles Thomas
I've been down in the dumps in Brownsville,
I've been high on hummers at Mile High,
I've flown to the Dry Tortugas,
I guess there's nowhere else to fly.
I've heard the "kicky-poo" of the Black Rail.
I've heard the nightjar call,
I've heard the Timberdoodle at twilight,
I guess I've heard them all.
I've seen the ring on the Ring-necked Duck,
I've seen the Pied-billed Grebe Fly.
I've seen the red on the woodpecker's belly,
I guess I'm ready to die.