Dear Connie,

I dont want you to ferel to bad not seeing the Bean Goose.There was about
close to 100 birders there on Saturday,and non saw the Bean Goose.We was
there already little after 7,00 on Saturday waiting to it got light,
shining out car lights on the run way as there was tousend,s of Shorbirds
what was roosting on the runway.It was sturming so bad that it shook our
car.We started at 8.00 Am birding and had the Goose by 8.10,but the wind was
howling so bad that this was not for the Goose to stay,he flew of in
direction of the School.All day birders looked in real bad weather the worst
believe me.Rachel came with two canadian Birders what i recogniced beeing
birding in BC.I ask them if there feel bad not seeing the Bean Goose? The
reply was refreshing to hear:"When you chase after Rare Birds you dont
always get them"So there enjoyed to talk to other birders,cause there was in
good company with Rachel.Nothing bothers her, easy does it.
Connie you have onother chance to see this Goose,but this place where he is
now,is not to good for resting,the back of the Airport would be much
better,not beeing desturbed.And also dont feel so bad about you scope
casing.My first scope brand new a Kowa the first in the state 1986,and on
our first time out on the CBC in Tacoma on a high cliff ovelocking the sound
our brand new scope fall and made a dent in the scope that was all.Than
later in Wenas photographing a A.Dipper what was going to his nest i dropped
my whole camera exipment in to the rushing Wenas Creek.There was$900.going
kaput.i saved the lense what had to be sent in for beeing dried out.Than on
Bowerman Basin looking at the Tufted Duck,for some reason my Leica Scope
fall of the tripod onto the cement.The Scope was going and we replaced
that.It gos on and on and i am sure that other birders took some lost in the
field.I always saying:" It is better to loose you equipment than crashing
you car"You can always make this up,but when you hurt you maybe for a life
time.

Have a wonderful Chistmas and cheers.

Ruth Sullivan







----- Original Message -----
From: "Constance J. Sidles" <csidles at mail.isomedia.com>
To: <tweeters at u.washington.edu>
Sent: Wednesday, December 18, 2002 4:49 PM
Subject: no beans about goose


> Hey tweets, I don't want to seem churlish by not thanking Wilson Cady and
> company for telling John and me on Sunday to look for the bean goose off K
> Street. I do sincerely thank him and all the birding community that takes
> such care of its members by sharing really wonderful birds with everyone.
>
> It's just that it's taken me this long to stop being so angry that I want
> to chew nails. Here's what happened:
>
> John and I headed out for Hoquiam at 4 a.m. Sunday morning, our hearts
full
> of hope and our stomachs full of delectable donuts that we always buy at
> Western Donuts to gruntle us for getting up so dang early. We have
> discovered, over the course of many years of chasing, that if we don't
stop
> in at the Western, we get so cranky with each other that one of us is
bound
> to press the big red Eject button we have installed in our car in order to
> send the other one blasting off into the wild blue yonder, where to alight
> we neither know nor care. (We wish; in reality, the Eject button is our
> emergency lights button and only sends us to virtual oblivion. Still,
there
> is a certain satisfaction in pressing it when one of us gets too ornery.)
>
> We always start out on these chasing expeditions with such big smiles on
> our faces. We just know "the bird" is going to be there. Sometimes, it
> actually is. Other times, we have another story to tell (like the time we
> drove 600 miles round trip to look at redpoll vents to no avail, or the
> time... well, you get the idea).
>
> This time, the signs were ominous. We ran into a pair of forlorn birders
on
> the Sandpiper Trail, who told us that Ruth was down the path and said no
> one had seen the bird since the previous morning, when it had been spotted
> flying purposefully off. Not good. We spent the entire day dodging
> rainstorms, traveling in a circuit to the elementary school, the high
> school, the ball field, the airport, back to the elementary school, etc.
We
> learned a lot about Hoquiam but nothing about geese.
>
> Finally, the wind came up, as John had predicted, having checked on the
> internet that the ocean buoys anchored way out were bobbing up and down on
> swells so enormous that even the biggest of big-wave Hawaiian surfers
would
> quail at the sight. (Washington has the biggest surf in the world, when a
> big winter storm comes through with sustained western winds.) We decided
to
> pack it in and headed for home when, much to our happy surprise, Wilson
and
> company came roaring past, waving and shouting that the goose had been
> relocated off K street. By then, the rain was coming in horizontal sheets,
> but hey, we're birders. Who cares?
>
> We drove off bouncing and jouncing over potholes until we came to the
> railroad tracks and found a little parking place. By then, the wind was
> howling so loudly that John and I could hardly hear each other. We set out
> down the railroad tracks with our heads down, the rain pelting so hard it
> drove right through our clothes and actually hurt our skin. When we
reached
> the field described by the carful of lucky birders, we set up the scope,
> only to have the wind blow it down, damaging the casing. Great. But who
> cares? We're birders.
>
> We started to scan the field, where some billion geese were hunkered down
> against the wind. The gusts were so strong that I couldn't see through my
> binoculars because I was swaying so hard. I had to look quickly whenever a
> short break in the storm came. This was frustrating, especially because if
> we had known about the K street location earlier in the day, when we were
> getting sunbreaks and still air, we would have had a perfect view. But who
> cares? We're birders.
>
> Just then, I saw a few geese jump up into the air and start flying off. I
> thought that was odd, given the conditions. So I put my binocs down to ask
> John what he thought. I never got the words out, because I saw what was
> happening. Some jerk had brought his border collies down to the field for
a
> little fun and was siccing four dogs onto the geese. Three of the dogs
> preferred not to run around like crazy gerbils and satisfy their owner's
> pathetic ego, but the fourth one was happily running all over the field,
> putting up every single goose, duck, phalarope, even starling. Birds all
> gone. No bean goose.
>
> Without a word, John and I packed up the scope and started trudging back
to
> the car. Our clothes were so wet and we were so cold that we could hardly
> move our legs. Nevertheless, we moved them. Not because we had to in order
> to keep from dying of hypothermia. No, we wanted to catch up to that man
> and commit mayhem. Unfortunately, a glacier could have moved faster than
we
> did.
>
> Years ago, I remember watching a PBS show about anemones. It turns out
that
> anemones, which we think of as pleasant little plant-like organisms that
> live peacefully attached to a rock, really are highly aggressive animals
> that engage in constant warfare against each other by reaching out their
> tentacles and grabbing each other. They also try to grow into each other's
> territory. But it all happens so verrryyyy sllloooowwwllly that humans
> can't see it. We can only see it with time-lapse photography. Well, that's
> how our battle with the dog owner was. We advanced on him verryyy
> slllooowwwlly, and he "ran" away verryy slllooowwllly, keeping just ahead
> of us. My brain was boiling over with hot emotion, but my body was frozen
> solid. He got away. All that John and I got for our pains was a damaged
> scope, wet clothes, cold bodies and grumpy moods. Not even Western donuts
> could make a dent. We were two steamed clams.
>
> So you see, that's why I haven't written before now. I'm still grieving.
> I've passed the anger stage and am stuck in the depression stage.
> Eventually, I hope to reach acceptance, but that day has not yet
arrived. -
> Connie, Seattle
>
> csidles at isomedia.com
>
>
>