I went shooting again today.

At one point a bird landed on my target frame 100 yards yonder. I've
had deer mosey behind the targets a couple of times at this range, but
I've never been bugged by a bird. The bird would not sit still. It
fidgeted like birds do, messing up my concentration. When a bullet
would hit the target, the little bird would sometimes (but not
always) fly away a few feet only to return immediately. This bird was
either very brave or singularly stupid. Oh well, I was a visitor in
his habitat, right?

But then it made a bad mistake. It dissed me by pooping on my target.
Now, I know my target was nothing to brag about but that sort of
impudence was a bit much.

Very shortly thereafter I witnessed an instance of long-range
instantaneous avian disassembly. WOW! All I saw in the scope was
feathers. I decided I'd better go dispose of that lest someone else
arrive at the range and misunderstand. (Or worse, understand
perfectly.) Took me a minute to find it. What I found was a bird
skin with feathers and wings ... but no bird inside. Geez, it was
just a .22. (.22-250 that is, 55-grain ballistic tip tickin' along
at about 3675 feet per second)

I don't know what kind of bird it was. A small drab bird. Perhaps it
was a pileated poopingtwit of which there were only 38 specimens
remaining in existance. Well, now there are only 37.

I was also disturbed for a while by disappearing bullet holes. I was
zeroing a scope on one rifle so I was trying to note a trend as holes
progressed after I tweaked the knobs on the scope.
But occasionally a hole would disappear. Was the spirit of the
recently-departed pileated poopingtwit messing with my head?

Turned out the disappearing bullet holes were horseflies. I could not
see their wings, legs, eyes, earrings or tattoos at 100 yards even
with a 60-power spotting scope; they looked just like bulletholes.

I didn't shoot any horseflies. If they pooped on my target they were
discrete about it.

In article ,
Don Foreman wrote:

At one point a bird landed on my target frame 100 yards yonder. I've
had deer mosey behind the targets a couple of times at this range, but
I've never been bugged by a bird. The bird would not sit still. It
fidgeted like birds do, messing up my concentration. When a bullet
would hit the target, the little bird would sometimes (but not
always) fly away a few feet only to return immediately. This bird was
either very brave or singularly stupid. Oh well, I was a visitor in
his habitat, right?

I saw a bird make a nest on the ground in the middle of the pistol range
at the Cape kennedy space center. Sat on the nest with bullets going
overhead, while shooters were tramping everywhere changing targets.
Eventually the eggs hatched and the (duck?) walked her chicks to the
nearby canal.

Free men own guns - www(dot)geocities(dot)com/CapitolHill/5357/

On Wed, 10 Sep 2008 00:03:58 -0500, with neither quill nor qualm, Don
Foreman quickly quoth:

I went shooting again today.

At one point a bird landed on my target frame 100 yards yonder. I've
had deer mosey behind the targets a couple of times at this range, but
I've never been bugged by a bird. The bird would not sit still. It
fidgeted like birds do, messing up my concentration. When a bullet
would hit the target, the little bird would sometimes (but not
always) fly away a few feet only to return immediately. This bird was
either very brave or singularly stupid. Oh well, I was a visitor in
his habitat, right?

Ooh, I feel something big coming...


But then it made a bad mistake. It dissed me by pooping on my target.
Now, I know my target was nothing to brag about but that sort of
impudence was a bit much.

Ayup, thought so.


Very shortly thereafter I witnessed an instance of long-range
instantaneous avian disassembly. WOW! All I saw in the scope was
feathers. I decided I'd better go dispose of that lest someone else
arrive at the range and misunderstand. (Or worse, understand
perfectly.) Took me a minute to find it. What I found was a bird
skin with feathers and wings ... but no bird inside. Geez, it was
just a .22. (.22-250 that is, 55-grain ballistic tip tickin' along
at about 3675 feet per second)

Are you going to tell us about the white mist? (Birds don't have
blood, just all that white poop they're so full of.)


I don't know what kind of bird it was. A small drab bird. Perhaps it
was a pileated poopingtwit of which there were only 38 specimens
remaining in existance. Well, now there are only 37.

So solly! I want to do that to a family of blue jays outside my
house. They're worse than the damned dogs next door with their
constant noise.


I was also disturbed for a while by disappearing bullet holes. I was
zeroing a scope on one rifle so I was trying to note a trend as holes
progressed after I tweaked the knobs on the scope.
But occasionally a hole would disappear. Was the spirit of the
recently-departed pileated poopingtwit messing with my head?

Was it a Voodoo God pileated poopingtwit, sir?


Turned out the disappearing bullet holes were horseflies. I could not
see their wings, legs, eyes, earrings or tattoos at 100 yards even
with a 60-power spotting scope; they looked just like bulletholes.

Amazing. Hell to get old, iddenit?


I didn't shoot any horseflies. If they pooped on my target they were
discrete about it.

Discreet, too, huh? Good story. Thanks again for sharing it.

--
"Most Folks Are As Happy As They Make Up Their Minds To Be"
-Abraham Lincoln
-----------------------------------------------------------

On Wed, 10 Sep 2008 06:40:43 -0700, Larry Jaques
wrote:

On Wed, 10 Sep 2008 00:03:58 -0500, with neither quill nor qualm, Don
Foreman quickly quoth:

I went shooting again today.

At one point a bird landed on my target frame 100 yards yonder. I've
had deer mosey behind the targets a couple of times at this range, but
I've never been bugged by a bird. The bird would not sit still. It
fidgeted like birds do, messing up my concentration. When a bullet
would hit the target, the little bird would sometimes (but not
always) fly away a few feet only to return immediately. This bird was
either very brave or singularly stupid. Oh well, I was a visitor in
his habitat, right?

Ooh, I feel something big coming...


But then it made a bad mistake. It dissed me by pooping on my target.
Now, I know my target was nothing to brag about but that sort of
impudence was a bit much.

Ayup, thought so.


Very shortly thereafter I witnessed an instance of long-range
instantaneous avian disassembly. WOW! All I saw in the scope was
feathers. I decided I'd better go dispose of that lest someone else
arrive at the range and misunderstand. (Or worse, understand
perfectly.) Took me a minute to find it. What I found was a bird
skin with feathers and wings ... but no bird inside. Geez, it was
just a .22. (.22-250 that is, 55-grain ballistic tip tickin' along
at about 3675 feet per second)

Are you going to tell us about the white mist? (Birds don't have
blood, just all that white poop they're so full of.)


I don't know what kind of bird it was. A small drab bird. Perhaps it
was a pileated poopingtwit of which there were only 38 specimens
remaining in existance. Well, now there are only 37.

So solly! I want to do that to a family of blue jays outside my
house. They're worse than the damned dogs next door with their
constant noise.


I was also disturbed for a while by disappearing bullet holes. I was
zeroing a scope on one rifle so I was trying to note a trend as holes
progressed after I tweaked the knobs on the scope.
But occasionally a hole would disappear. Was the spirit of the
recently-departed pileated poopingtwit messing with my head?

Was it a Voodoo God pileated poopingtwit, sir?


Turned out the disappearing bullet holes were horseflies. I could not
see their wings, legs, eyes, earrings or tattoos at 100 yards even
with a 60-power spotting scope; they looked just like bulletholes.

Amazing. Hell to get old, iddenit?


I didn't shoot any horseflies. If they pooped on my target they were
discrete about it.

Discreet, too, huh? Good story. Thanks again for sharing it.
During mosquito season I found a tiny blood stain beside a bullet hole
in a target - more good luck than good management.
Gerry :-)}
London, Canada

Don Foreman wrote:
I went shooting again today.

snip

I don't know what kind of bird it was. A small drab bird. Perhaps it
was a pileated poopingtwit of which there were only 38 specimens
remaining in existance. Well, now there are only 37.

Spotted owl. I'm certain of it.

Where did this happen, exactly? G

On Wed, 10 Sep 2008 06:40:43 -0700, Larry Jaques
wrote:



Are you going to tell us about the white mist? (Birds don't have
blood, just all that white poop they're so full of.)

All I saw thru the scope was a burst of feathers.

Turned out the disappearing bullet holes were horseflies. I could not
see their wings, legs, eyes, earrings or tattoos at 100 yards even
with a 60-power spotting scope; they looked just like bulletholes.

Amazing. Hell to get old, iddenit?

Beats dying young most days! But this was an issue of mirage or
atmospheric shimmer limiting resolution at range. That can limit the
finest optics and most acute youthful vision.

On Thu, 11 Sep 2008 23:43:54 -0500, with neither quill nor qualm, Don
Foreman quickly quoth:

On Wed, 10 Sep 2008 06:40:43 -0700, Larry Jaques
wrote:

Are you going to tell us about the white mist? (Birds don't have
blood, just all that white poop they're so full of.)

All I saw thru the scope was a burst of feathers.

Turned out the disappearing bullet holes were horseflies. I could not
see their wings, legs, eyes, earrings or tattoos at 100 yards even
with a 60-power spotting scope; they looked just like bulletholes.

Amazing. Hell to get old, iddenit?

Beats dying young most days!

Verily. One of my sigs is "Every day above ground is a good day."


But this was an issue of mirage or
atmospheric shimmer limiting resolution at range. That can limit the
finest optics and most acute youthful vision.

I only notice those phenomena on 95F or hotter days. You?

--
"Most Folks Are As Happy As They Make Up Their Minds To Be"
-Abraham Lincoln
-----------------------------------------------------------

On Fri, 12 Sep 2008 04:53:33 -0700, Larry Jaques
wrote:

On Thu, 11 Sep 2008 23:43:54 -0500, with neither quill nor qualm, Don
Foreman quickly quoth:

On Wed, 10 Sep 2008 06:40:43 -0700, Larry Jaques
wrote:

Are you going to tell us about the white mist? (Birds don't have
blood, just all that white poop they're so full of.)

All I saw thru the scope was a burst of feathers.

Turned out the disappearing bullet holes were horseflies. I could not
see their wings, legs, eyes, earrings or tattoos at 100 yards even
with a 60-power spotting scope; they looked just like bulletholes.

Amazing. Hell to get old, iddenit?

Beats dying young most days!

Verily. One of my sigs is "Every day above ground is a good day."


But this was an issue of mirage or
atmospheric shimmer limiting resolution at range. That can limit the
finest optics and most acute youthful vision.

I only notice those phenomena on 95F or hotter days. You?

It was in the mid 70's. It wasn't noticable in the rifle scope but it
sure was in a 45X spotting scope. It happens when there is a
significant difference in temperature between the surface (land or
water) and the adjacent air. This produces a temperature gradient, and
dense air has a slightly different refractive index than less-dense
air. Any turbulence in the air will thus result in light rays taking
minutely different paths from moment to moment so the image dances and
distorts.

I don't recall ever *not* seeing it when using the spotting scope at
the lake, where I spy on distant fishermen from my deck to see what
lures they're using -- and if they're ketchin' enny. In those cases
the distances are sometimes nearly 1000 yards.