CW: Discussion of suicide loss
Over the past year, birding has become a source of emotional healing. I lost my friend Robin to suicide on March 3, 2024. Her loss left me broken and empty in a way in which I had never experienced.
I’m on the board for a trans community center in Fort Worth, Texas, and I met Robin through events held in the space. We became fast friends, as we shared a love for animals, athletics, and social justice. Less than a year from our meeting, she became the president of our board (I serve as secretary). I looked up to her as a leader and a mentor. I felt like a little girl lost without Robin’s aunt-like presence (despite my being nearly three years older) in my life.
As time elapsed, I contemplated the anniversary of her passing. I decided that I wouldn’t do anything specific to honor the date, unless something stood out. In late February, I saw rare bird alerts for a Rufous-backed Robin at a bird blind in South Llano River State Park in Junction, Texas (about a 4 hour drive from my house in Fort Worth). That bird is native to the western slope of Mexico, and it sometimes shows up as far north as the Rio Grande Valley. However, Junction — a tiny town more than 300 miles north of the Valley — is well out of its normal range, so birding sites were abuzz with the visiting thrush.
After a few days of rare bird alerts, and photos on various Facebook groups, it hit me that searching for a rare robin was an apt way to honor my precious friend, Robin. In addition, the bird was only seen at a specific blind, approximately every hour, so there was a high likelihood that I’d see him/her on a visit.
On March 2nd, I embarked on a one-night solo trip to Junction to see the rare Rufous-backed Robin. I questioned my sanity as I embarked on such a short trip (had time constraints due to work, but had to get to Junction before the bird potentially left), but the prospects of seeing this birdie in my friend’s honor left me feeling unstoppable. I drove straight from my house to the park, as I was eager to find this special thrush.
The first birds I encountered upon arriving at the blind were American Robins (which I jokingly referred to as regular robins throughout the trip). Even to my left-brained self, they felt like a sign that I was certain to see the rarity. Within about 90 minutes of my arrival, the Rufous-backed Robin entered the blind, and I whispered “she’s here.” I snapped dozens of photos as I embraced the ineffable moment. People like Robin don’t come around very often, so my sighting of the Rufous-backed Robin was downright spiritual.
*If you or anyone you know is struggling, call or text 988 for a crisis hotline.
Another capture of my beautiful rarity
This handsome man was one of the most photogenic regular robins of the afternoon
South Llano River State Park is situated near the town of Junction, about an hour and forty minutes northwest of San Antonio. The park is in the western part of the Texas Hill Country, and is home to a diverse variety of birds. I’d be remiss not to share some of the South Llano avian denizens that I encountered on my journey. I also reserve the right to include more Robin portraits from my trip, as well. :)
The Woodhouse’s Scrub Jay is a common Hill Country birdie.
This cutie was hanging out the passenger’s side of his best friend’s ride.
This Sage Thrasher was another rarity at the park that week, and a lifer for me. They’re normally found in the Mountain West, so this darling was well out of range. I enjoy teasing my husband about missing out on that lifer opportunity.
That sassy girl Cardinal was one of the highlights of my trip. I loved watching her put Big Red in his place with her icy stares.
He likes her hair, her ripped up jeans
The Hermit Thrush was another regular visitor at the bird blind. Little Herman was the best model.
Something tells me this perfect poser is into something good.
A man who rocked the red runway
He’s a model, you know what I mean? And he does his little turn on the bird-walk.
The Ladder-backed Woodpecker was another common avian at the park. That little man kept posing for my camera, as he enjoyed the peanut butter feeder.
I’d be remiss not to include this Ladder-backed lass. She and her side-eye were on point.
Black-crested Titmouse cuteness level 10, emo hair and eyeliner included.
This birdie was a joke, look, and another line without a hook as he/she practiced s a series of interesting poses along the water feature.
The Black-throated Sparrow was a lifer for me.
Someone looks better and more handsome in a tuxedo than you ever will.
Watching the birdies at the water feature is always a hoot. This man sure let me know that he wanted some privacy while he bathed.
“Excuse me, but don’t you think it’s a wee bit peculiar to poke that behemoth lens from inside a blind and snap photos of folks bathing?”
Drenched girlie.
Giving Regina George vibes with her less-than-subtle glare.
This Black-throated Gray Warbler visited the water feature out of nowhere, and I was elated at my lifer. That bird is a western species, so seeing one in Texas was a special treat.
“Oh good gracious, can’t a man take a bath without spectators?! The fact that you’re so fixated on my hygiene habits alone shows that you haven’t been young and cool since the early aughts.”
The sassiest girl Cardinal in the land.
She used to hold her freak back, now she’s letting go.
Lest I forget, our state bird. Nothing as hilarious as an angry Mockingbird.
Hit the road, Jack, and don’t you come back no more.
Orange-crowned Warblers were another frequently visiting species. Love when they come to my state for the winter.
Moody moment for this handsome dude. My second day brought overcast skies, and that guy took on a more peaceful vibe in the lighting.
White-winged Doves have such captivating eyes, and that big beauty looked so tranquil in the late winter sunlight.
My name is Stevie, and I’m here to show you around the park
White-crowned Sparrows were extremely common visitors.
This birdie will make ‘em bow one by one by, one
The eyes have it with this Brown Thrasher.
Bewick’s Wren—Small, mighty, and the master of the angsty glare.
Lesser Goldfinches were another common species at the park.
That girl Robin was a perfect model.
This adorable state avian wants to know if he/she needs a napkin.
Mock. Yeah. Ing. Yeah.
Dear Black-crested cutie, I never left my emo phase either, so you’re in good company.
This little one would appreciate if you forget about the dirty looks and the photographs your boyfriend took.
And for fun, there's the little one from my comment on last week’s Dawn Chorus.
That birdie read me like a book, but the pages are all torn and frayed now.
Water cooler gossip time for those two dudes.
Heard through the grapevine that Lora’s Blind has all the good snacks.
I knew the second I took this photo that it was special, and my eyes got a bit misty when I looked down at my camera screen. Robin is gone, yet she is with me forever.
Thanks for reading! Now tell us about your week in birding.
Side note—To see more of my photos, follow me on Instagram, or search for Becky Schiffer on Facebook.
