'Gator Golf News etc...
(Contributing photographer Bruce 'Hole In One' Gibson)
Before I get to the bird stuff, I thought I might just throw in my unwanted, ignorant, and wildly over-priced 1/50th of a dollar concerning golf... You know, I never really understood golf. (The fact that I only traded blows with the so-called 'sport' a few times and was KO'ed in all bouts probably doesn't invigorate my objectivity... but like Carl, I digress...) The pic above speaks volumes as to what I perceive to be very physical proof of the asinine pursuit of this pastime. My idea of a sport is something along the lines of Frisbee or leisurely jogging down at the local track -- at least there's some aerobic activity involved. Golf on the other hand is at best (as so famously has been said) is a good walk ruined... and that's on a rare good day. No, more typically, 'club and dimpled ball' are fraught with lightning strikes, heat exhaustion, depression, suicide, divorce, bankruptcy, and sudden dismemberment by one of the course 'hazards' like the scaly brute above. Now, before I leave this topic to touch on birds, please allow me to be proactive and suggest how I would make golf sane. (For me anyway...)
I'd keep the game roughly the same. (I mean who doesn't see the reward of using a wildly expensive club to scoot a small ball into a slightly-less-small hole from long distances?) But, every third green would have a Hooters with bullet-proof walls and windows. Cheating and lying would not just be tolerated out on the links (as it currently is), but instead would be wholeheartedly encouraged -- anything to speed up the crypt-like pace. Better yet, if I had my way, my golf bag would contain more than clubs -- it would contain large caliber firearms to kill the derned reptiles. In fact, all said, the best approach would be to get rid of the clubs and balls entirely, and just carry guns. And when I'd yell, 'Fore!', people wouldn't just duck, they'd hit the dirt because they knew that that meant I was about to uncork my .44 magnum on one of the beasts. My gentleman's pursuit would be reduced to little more than a crazed drunken dash from green to sand trap to yet another Hooters blasting big toothies en route all the while hoping not to get shot by the following party. Now there's a sport even Ernest Hemingway would endorse!
Ah crud... I've used up all my bird time with you... But at least here's a couple of shots that Bruce also took of Sandhill Cranes at the Habitat Golf Course in Valkaria, Fla...
Sometime remind me how with just a few tweaks (chainsaws and flamethrowers) we could make the America's Cup more engaging...
By those never boring feeders...
CapeCodAlan
Cornell Ornithology Laboratory: Inside Birding
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By Location, Birds and Natural History Books (a global reference)

























