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There are a lot of extraordinary birds around here, but the roadrunners are in a class of their own. We're on the northern edge of their range, and we don't see them often, but occasionally one will go sprinting through the yard. It seems they'd rather run than fly.
A few summers ago, there was a roadrunner at Don's office for four days. Most of the bird's time was spent in front of the glass door, admiring his spiky hair and wild yellow eyes, and when visitors would come, the bird would run off with a growl. He didn't seem at all frightened, just disgruntled that someone was disturbing his mirror time.
We saw the one pictured about a week ago on a balmy afternoon. I've thought about him since then on frigid nights, and hope he's found a warm shelter. Alternately, he could go south, but in this winter of crazy weather, it would be a long run from here to a warmer climate.
Then again, maybe they do this once every four years, sorta like a Roadrunner Olympics.
