By Jim Studer
The Seldom Scene is the name of a BlueGrass band. The scenes of my life have changed. Many have become seldom seen.
MEADOWLARKS ─ Not having twenty acres of feral field out my front door as I had growing up in St. Cloud, I miss the melody of those larks. These yellow-breasted soloists were my classical music.
KILLDEER ─ Those brown birds with orange trimmed wings and tail with a piercing call had been missing from this city dweller for too many years.
BLUE BIRDS AND PURPLE MARTINS ─ Not since they resided in the birdhouses my grandpa built, have I laid eyes on those darting, soaring creatures that brought joy to my childhood summers in St. Wendel.
RING NECKED PHEASANTS ─ The gravel roads in Minnesota of my youth were dotted with the autumn hues of these birds as they picked gravel to line their gizzards. As a teen and young adult I saw them by the hundreds along the South Dakota byways. Where have all those regal birds gone?
JACKRABBITS ─ It wasn’t only South Dakota that gave me what appeared to be a slow motion picture of those graceful lopers. The twenty acres of field in front of our house in St. Cloud occasionally offered that same picture before TV sports captured the effect in replays of loping wide receivers.