In pursuit of the what? Okay, PABU is a shortcut term commonly used by the birding community to refer to the Painted Bunting, a bird I have been trying to photograph for years... I know they're here, Oklahoma that is. I know this, as over the years, I have seen outstanding photos of these birds, many of them taken by some very talented Oklahoma area photographers and posted on our very own PhotoMigrations.com... It's not like they're that hard to spot for goodness sakes. Reds, blues, greens, yellows, this bird looks like it had been trapped for three days in a paint factory. It could land in a Christmas tree and blend right in. I have gotten an occasional glimpse. Once, on the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve, one flew across the road, right in front of me and the ol' pickup, with a 35 mile an hour tailwind sweeping it merrily across the plain and immediately out of sight. That Kodak moment lasted for all of a second and a half. My next sighting was in the Wichita Mountains National Wildlife Refuge where I almost drove over one sitting in the middle of a gravel road doing whatever painted buntings do. Naturally, at the sight of a wide-eyed, dumbfounded photographer scrambling for a camera, the bird made a hasty exit, last seen headed for Texas. On the slim chance it would return, I sat for hours in a scorching, summer sun, gasping for breath and wishing for a cold beverage but it was not to be.

To try to keep some kind of idea on what birds are in the area, I subscribe to what is called the Oklahoma Birders List Serve. This group posts the most recent bird sightings and activity around the state and is delivered in the form of e-mails to all the members... Not only do I stay informed about birds but at the same time, enjoy the illusion of being a fun and popular guy when I find a full e-mail box every morning.

It was amazing to me just how many different species of birds these folks were seeing on a simple morning walk through the parks and woodlands. Not just a few mind you, but lots, dozens actually, of the coolest birds in Okie land. To them, Painted Buntings were as common as a summer tic crawling up your pant leg. They consistently saw such birds as Great Crested Flycatchers, Tennessee Warblers, Scarlet Tanagers, Indigo Buntings, Blue Grosbeaks, and many other such delightful species that seldom, if ever, cross my path.

I had to see for myself how they were finding all those birds! Maybe I was doing something wrong or going to poor locations. Finally, curiosity prompted me to join one of the local groups for a field trip. The Tuesday Morning Birders they were called; a friendly bunch as it turned out, and they were quite eager to welcome me on one of their excursions to a park near the Arkansas River. After a few introductions, we had no sooner left the parking lot when I heard "Blue Gray Gnatcatcher ten o'clock". The official recorder dutifully wrote it down. I looked high, I looked low, I couldn't see any gnatcatchers much less a blue-gray one. Then, "Black & White Warbler nine o'clock." Where, where? Taking pity, one of the birders handed me his binoculars and painstakingly detailed the location. I finally saw it but to my surprise and dismay, it was a QUARTER MILE AWAY! It hit me like a hammer; these guys weren't thinking like photographers and looking for birds within camera range; no, they were thinking WAAAAY out there! A mere speck, a minute movement in the leaves, a flash of color, was all they needed to declare a sighting of a Blue Breasted Bob-o-Link... or whatever. Clearly, other than general location, the birders were to be of little help in my quest of the elusive PABU.

Then, only a few days ago, ever alert and vigilant for cool birds, I was on my morning walk through a part of the neighborhood that was still being developed with a scattering of a few new homes and several vacant, brushy lots, when I caught a glimpse of something green and red, moving in the weeds. There was the bunting, right in front of me, busy feeding on some kind of plant with a bushy, seed filled, head. Wow. For at least five minutes, this small kaleidoscope of hues fed and flittered, so close I could have got it with a point and shoot. Its food of choice, I noticed, had a rather flimsy stem, too little to support its weight. To overcome this problem, the bird would fly to the bushy head, grab the stem, bend it over to a sturdier stalk, and munch away. Watching this display of ingenuity, I was hit with yet another revelation. This bird was not up in the treetops where I had been looking, but near the ground. No wonder I couldn't find it!

The next morning, I loaded up the biggest lens I had, jumped in the old pickup so I could use it as a blind, and headed back to those bushy-headed weeds. I could smell success. Victory would be mine. Hooahh. But again, it was not to be. It seems that in my absence, the county road crew had come along and mowed every single Painted Bunting delicacy to the ground. Talk about shock and awe! I went home for a cold beverage to numb the pain.

That evening, depressed and discouraged, I first made a stop at the fridge, then set up the tripod on the back deck, and sat down to once again photograph birds that I see most everyday. Though not exactly exciting, it would at least have therapeutic value. Now I have everything in my backyard that a little birdie heart could desire; feeders, cover, birdbath, dripper, you name it so there's always a few birds around and this occasion was no different. There was the usual cast of characters; titmouse, chickadee, house finch, blue jay, and ...OH MY GAWD there it was, the PABU; twelve o'clock-not a quarter mile away but ten, maybe fifteen yards. Two shots, that's all I got. His pretty little head was turned away on one, but the second was decent, not great but decent. My quest was over at last.

Now I'm thinking IBWO - that's the Ivory Billed Woodpecker to you non-birders.

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