Good morning ! Well, for most of the country it is good afternoon as it is almost noon here. Oh well.
I have been posting on the whale watching network out here, www.orcanetwork.org, and most of my posts have come from the vantage point of Possession Ridge, where I was involved in an extensive remodel project. The owners there are a great couple. One of those couples that despite the stress make working a joy. Anyway, the husband had told me that during a surgery recuperation period, he logged 43 different species of birds from his back yard. After working there, I have to believe him. And this last week he added another, and it was a week I call Yellow Bird Week.
The 44th species was the Evening Grosbeak, of the Fringillidae family. I had seen many a Rose Breasted Grosbeaks of the Cardinalidae family at the former home of the in-laws west of Madison,Wisconsin. The grosbeak has a very distinct beak shape, and is white in color for the Evening Grosbeak variety. I happened to be returning from the lumberyard and there in the front yard in a conifer were 6 of them. I was fortunate enough to get the glass on them, that's lingo for using binoculars, before they flew on. It is always fun to see a new species of bird.
So a day or two later, as we were soaking up the sun and view during morning break, I noticed a streak of yellow flash out of the berry bushes that border the sloped back yard. I managed to glass it, but it moved to rapidly, and it rather resembled the behavior of the male Ruby Throat Hummingbird. Let me explain. When the Rubies made it back to the island, we were in the back yard overlooking the Saratoga Passage, on break, soaking it in. This particular Ruby was zooming straight up out of the berry bushes, and then straight down. Up and down. All day long, though not seemingly for more than several trips at a time. Well, I saw this flash of yellow, almost orange, flash up and then down. Not what I would say was Grosbeak behavior. Why? The grosbeak is a nut and berry eater, and unless it was mating season, I would call the flashing up behavior that of an insect eating bird that spied a cloud of insects. However, that wouldn't be the case for the Ruby Throat. I think they are territorial, and since the females didn't show up for several weeks until after the male, I suspect that what we witnessed was territorial behavior. Anyway, I glassed the feeder, and there were some Grosbeaks. They looked too pastel though, not bright enough for what I saw. Hmmm, I pondered.
My question was answered at lunch time. Remember the sloping back yard? There is a road down the slope beyond the berry bushes, and of course the resident conifers that fill the hillside between the road and down to the bluff edge or the beach. I saw the orange/yellow flash light in the top of one of these Firs, and I pulled out my 'nocs. Yup. That's no Evening Grosbeak! Black bill, slender as in the case of many insect eaters, and a black eye stripe with and orange eye line, sometimes called a lore. Well, I told the homeowner, and it turns out it's the Bullock's Oriole, the only Oriole species that appears in this part of the country. That explained the insect chasing behavior and orangeiness of it's color.
Part of what is exciting about seeing these new species is that it opens my awareness and observation to that around me. Everything has it's distinctions. Think about it in terms of people. Nose size as opposed to beak size. Eye color, hair color and shape, instead of feet or talons, the shoes they wear. Trees can be viewed this way. No, not as humans. In the differences of their needles and leaves, the color and texture of their bark, and so on. The colors, shapes and sizes of clouds. It is fun to see the different species of dragonflies on this basis. The different textures of wood come alive. Look at the trim in your house, or different pieces of wood furniture. It is truly amazing all the beauty and diversity that surround us.
That's it for today! Believe it, I'm going to post a delicious recipe for Italian omelets next!
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
HOPIN FOR WHALES...
We were disappointed. At least I was, and that was when we got there. Fishing boats everywhere. I couldn’t believe it. Right in tight on the shore, where the whales would feed if they had a mind to be there. It seemed like this was going to turn into a walk accompanied by the constant drone of outboard motors.
The last time we walked Possession Point; I ended up with an earache that lasted a long time. It was windy that day, almost a year and a half ago. This day promised to be different: sunny and warm, gentle breezes. And on such a sunny day, why walk in the woods? So I suggested Possession Point, in hopes of seeing the migrating gray whales.
Well, there we were, motorboats and a rocky shore. What the heck. We decided to walk for a little ways, and see if anything changed. So we headed for the point that makes up the southern most tip of Whidbey Island.
Possession Point has two very interesting features. One is that the bluffs there contain the most complete record of Ice Age deposits in the Puget Sound area. The second is the wreck that is just inside the channel buoys about 250 yards offshore. That area is home to several Giant pacific Octopi. What makes these features interesting? Both are hard to see! The dive to the wreck is risky, as boat traffic and currents are challenging. And the bluff face is quite expansive, and you need to know what to look for to see it. Yet a lot of people walk by there without knowing either of those two features.
Which is how I felt our walk would end up. Featureless, save for the excellent company of my wife. I could not have been more wrong. That day revealed several treasures, three of which I’ll share with you.
One is a particular favorite of ours. Remember the marker buoy I mentioned before? Guess who like to hang out there? That’s right, the California Sea Lion. We heard them first, swimming around the buoy and barking. Eventually though, two of them made it up onto the platform, and soon enough it was quiet again, and every once in a while a flipper would lazily shift as they lay there and basked in the sun. Mind you, a person can visit certain locks in Seattle during the salmon runs and see seals a-plenty. The numbers of seals are increasing, yet the downside is the depleted salmon runs, which are also adversely effected by pollution and over fishing.
I have long noticed that my wife is more observant than I. Once I get focused on something, most of the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Here I was walking along, looking at the rocks, looking for small tidal pools. I heard, “Rob…,” which translated meant, “Rob, don’t move and look up.” So I slowly raised my head and there not 30 feet away on a large dead tree trunk was a Yellow Headed Blackbird. According to my Smithsonian bird book, that species rarely comes west across the Cascades. Yet here this one had crossed the mountains and the water to come to our Island! Thankfully, I had the binoculars. What a gorgeous bird, with the yellow head and chest on a jet-black body. It finally flew up to the top of the bluff and out of sight. I had seen that species once in the almost 47 years I lived in the Midwest. Here I see it out of its range and usual habitat on a beautiful Sunday afternoon on the Island.
As we returned from our walk we noticed a large bird along the shoreline. It looked like a young eagle, and what struck me was the way nature still happens despite the proliferation of boats, and there were still very many of them on this opening day of Lingcod and Halibut. They adapt to the changes we make, and keep right on doing their thing as if we weren’t here. Truth be told, I am walking in their world, they aren’t “visiting” mine. We rounded the southern corner to head back to the van. For some reason, we both turned to look south, and there headed right at us was a bald eagle.
Now, back in the Midwest, a bald eagle was a big deal. Around here, I see them regularly. I see their nests. I hear them. It’s almost, well, I was going to say commonplace. Like whales though, they are too magnificent to be common. We had seen the young one fly off to the west, around the southern shore. This one was flying north, along the east shore, directly above us, but not by more than 40 feet or so, and with talons full of Lingcod. A good 12 to 16 inch Lingcod. This eagle rested on a dead tree directly above our heads. And suddenly, we were interrupting his dinner! It kept eyeing us, and not until we moved on did he begin his feast on his still live quarry. My wife wouldn’t use the binocs. But man, those eyes, and the beak, and the talons on that bird. It was amazing.
So despite being disappointed about not seeing whales, we still had many treasures on our walk. Motorboats, seals, eagles, a rocky shore, and excellent company. It was time to go home and check on our sons. I had been hoping for whales, and was surprised by joy instead.
The last time we walked Possession Point; I ended up with an earache that lasted a long time. It was windy that day, almost a year and a half ago. This day promised to be different: sunny and warm, gentle breezes. And on such a sunny day, why walk in the woods? So I suggested Possession Point, in hopes of seeing the migrating gray whales.
Well, there we were, motorboats and a rocky shore. What the heck. We decided to walk for a little ways, and see if anything changed. So we headed for the point that makes up the southern most tip of Whidbey Island.
Possession Point has two very interesting features. One is that the bluffs there contain the most complete record of Ice Age deposits in the Puget Sound area. The second is the wreck that is just inside the channel buoys about 250 yards offshore. That area is home to several Giant pacific Octopi. What makes these features interesting? Both are hard to see! The dive to the wreck is risky, as boat traffic and currents are challenging. And the bluff face is quite expansive, and you need to know what to look for to see it. Yet a lot of people walk by there without knowing either of those two features.
Which is how I felt our walk would end up. Featureless, save for the excellent company of my wife. I could not have been more wrong. That day revealed several treasures, three of which I’ll share with you.
One is a particular favorite of ours. Remember the marker buoy I mentioned before? Guess who like to hang out there? That’s right, the California Sea Lion. We heard them first, swimming around the buoy and barking. Eventually though, two of them made it up onto the platform, and soon enough it was quiet again, and every once in a while a flipper would lazily shift as they lay there and basked in the sun. Mind you, a person can visit certain locks in Seattle during the salmon runs and see seals a-plenty. The numbers of seals are increasing, yet the downside is the depleted salmon runs, which are also adversely effected by pollution and over fishing.
I have long noticed that my wife is more observant than I. Once I get focused on something, most of the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Here I was walking along, looking at the rocks, looking for small tidal pools. I heard, “Rob…,” which translated meant, “Rob, don’t move and look up.” So I slowly raised my head and there not 30 feet away on a large dead tree trunk was a Yellow Headed Blackbird. According to my Smithsonian bird book, that species rarely comes west across the Cascades. Yet here this one had crossed the mountains and the water to come to our Island! Thankfully, I had the binoculars. What a gorgeous bird, with the yellow head and chest on a jet-black body. It finally flew up to the top of the bluff and out of sight. I had seen that species once in the almost 47 years I lived in the Midwest. Here I see it out of its range and usual habitat on a beautiful Sunday afternoon on the Island.
As we returned from our walk we noticed a large bird along the shoreline. It looked like a young eagle, and what struck me was the way nature still happens despite the proliferation of boats, and there were still very many of them on this opening day of Lingcod and Halibut. They adapt to the changes we make, and keep right on doing their thing as if we weren’t here. Truth be told, I am walking in their world, they aren’t “visiting” mine. We rounded the southern corner to head back to the van. For some reason, we both turned to look south, and there headed right at us was a bald eagle.
Now, back in the Midwest, a bald eagle was a big deal. Around here, I see them regularly. I see their nests. I hear them. It’s almost, well, I was going to say commonplace. Like whales though, they are too magnificent to be common. We had seen the young one fly off to the west, around the southern shore. This one was flying north, along the east shore, directly above us, but not by more than 40 feet or so, and with talons full of Lingcod. A good 12 to 16 inch Lingcod. This eagle rested on a dead tree directly above our heads. And suddenly, we were interrupting his dinner! It kept eyeing us, and not until we moved on did he begin his feast on his still live quarry. My wife wouldn’t use the binocs. But man, those eyes, and the beak, and the talons on that bird. It was amazing.
So despite being disappointed about not seeing whales, we still had many treasures on our walk. Motorboats, seals, eagles, a rocky shore, and excellent company. It was time to go home and check on our sons. I had been hoping for whales, and was surprised by joy instead.
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