There are a number of birds that only come out under the cover of darkness. These birds are nocturnal and are seldom seen by people.

One of the rarest of these night birds is the Youmack Bird.

This bird typically shows up at the feeder on the darkest nights &045; those nights lacking even a hint of moonlight.

They can be easily identified by their song, which is good because they are most often heard, not seen.

The traffic at bird feeders can become congested, so nocturnal birds have adapted to making quick identification in the dark.

This is important in case a bird runs into something that would like to eat them. The Youmack Bird is very wary because its eyes have never developed as true nocturnal organs.

This is the reason that you can always hear when they are at your feeder in the dark.

They repeat over and over again, making the Whip-poor-will seem hushed mouth in comparison.

Their song is a distinctive one, that sounds a lot like this:

“Is that you, mack?”

Sunrise and sunset are important times for birds.

Many birds take off at sunrise.

On the opposite side of the world, many birds are landing at sunset.

This causes the Earth to spin on its axis.

The cat and the eagles

It is bad luck to have a black cat cross your path.

At least that is what we are told.

It is superstition, although if you were a mouse, it could be considered bad luck.

I am not one to believe in superstitions, but I do believe that it is bad luck for a black cat to cross the road in front of a Buick.

Or should I say &uot;to attempt to cross the road”?

A traveling black cat became a seriously declined feline at the end of our rural driveway.

It had been run over by a vehicle.

The demise of the cat was quickly noticed by an adult Bald Eagle, a magnificent bird with a white head and tail.

The eagle flew down to investigate the cat’s body before the chalk outline had faded one bit.

The eagle walked towards the cat in the odd, awkward gait common to a raptor on land.

The eagle began to sample its newly found delicacy.

Soon it was encircled by a murder of crows.

The crows watched from a safe distance while offering their opinions in a loud and consistent manner.

From time to time, the eagle would take a break from dining to give the raucous crows the look.

A good glare would put the crows quickly in their places.

The scene at this roadkill cafe was regularly interrupted by pickups driving by.

When this occurred, all of the participants would fly into the air-except for the cat, of course, and then land again once the vehicle had passed.

As an American Kestrel watched unconcerned from the safety of a utility wire, the eagle dragged the cat a short distance, trying to escape the prying eyes and constant criticisms of the crows.

Watching all this activity from a window of our house, my faithful canine companion, Towhee, had a cow.

To begin with, she doesn’t like crows because of their penchant for thievery of roadkill, but she considered the new, huge bird more than any self-respecting dog should have to put up with.

She made little barking and growling noises while my wife and I watched as a second Bald Eagle appeared on the scene.

It, too, was an adult featuring plenty of white feathers. That was when I had to leave.

I can only hope that the second Bald Eagle brought a bottle of ketchup.

Herding turkeys

The telephone rang on a hot, humid night.

It was an August evening best described as “stuffy.”

The caller was a friend and neighbor of mine.

He had a few Wild Turkeys that he had raised.

The big birds were wild, but not really.

There was one male turkey, a “tom,” which had declared itself a “watch turkey.”

It patrolled the farm like a pitbull with feathers.

Visitors were hesitant to get out of their vehicles when encountered by the imposing turkey.

My neighbor told me that his turkeys were out on the road and that he was worried that a big truck might come along and run over the whole flock.

He asked if I would be willing to help chase them home.

“I’d be happy to,” I said.

“It should be a piece of cake. Those turkeys are dumber than a box of rocks.”

It was stifling hot by the time I joined my friend in the dogged pursuit of the wayward turkeys.

It was an evening so hot that a fellow could work up a sweat just by blinking his eyes. We learned a lot about turkeys that night.

As we pursued them, we discovered that a turkey could run at about 25 mph without working up a sweat &045; that is, if turkeys could sweat.

We found that the gobblers could fly 55 mph almost immediately upon becoming airborne.

They would fly up ahead of us with a rush of air that would nearly blow our hats off.

We spent two, long, miserable hours chasing those turkeys.

I was hot, tired, thirsty, hungry and testy.

“That does it!” I told my neighbor.

“I am sick of chasing those stupid birds.

I hope a big truck comes along and greases the entire flock.

Then at least we would have something to eat.”

My neighbor agreed with my assessment.

We hoofed it back to my neighbor’s farm.

The turkeys followed us home.

Etcetera

Please join me on a memory-making trip to Alaska on Aug. 13.

We will visit Fairbanks, Denali, Anchorage and Seward.

We will spend time panning for gold, journeying down a river on the Riverboat Discovery, taking a tour of Denali Park, relaxing on the Alaska Railroad, cruising the Kenai Fjords and enjoying a salmon bake.

Join me on a visit to one of the best places on earth. Call 373-4705 or 1-800-328-4298 for more information.

My thanks to the Zumbro Valley Audubon Society, those in attendance at the Goodhue County Soil and Water Conservation District Annual Banquet, all those at the North American Bluebird Society’s Annual Conference in Kearney, Neb., to the Bluebirds Across Nebraska organization, the Waseca County Historical Society, all those who attended the two Flower and Bird Seminars at the Blue Earth County Library in Mankato and all those at the Annual Banquet of the Waterville-Elysian-Morristown FFA for being such wonderful audiences for my stories.

“The camel never sees its own hump, but that of its brother is always before its eyes.”–an African proverb

“Waiting for circumstances to change so you can feel good is like looking in a mirror waiting for your reflection to smile first.” &045; Bashar

DO GOOD.

Allen Batt of Hartland is a member of the Albert Lea Audubon Society. His e-mail address is SnoEowl@aol.com.