Hey tweets, I've often pondered about why birding appeals to me so very
much. Some of the appeal, I know, has to do with what E.O. Wilson calls
biophilia, our innate love of nature. E.O. Wilson, you may recall, is the
professor at Hahvahd who invented sociobiology. I say Hahvahd so you may all
realize how very couth I am, and how much culture I have.

In my realer moments, however - when I am occupying my true self, or what I
call my Jed Clampett persona - I can't deny that for me, birding also
gratifies two of my baser instincts: the desire for treasure, and the desire
to hunt. Put them together and you have (drum roll here): B i i r r r d d d
i i i n n n g g g, the world's most exciting - and rewarding - treasure
hunt. Actually, if I'm not careful, treasure hunting may become the new
latest thing. There was an article in the paper just the other day about how
the glitterati (i.e., those at the opposite end of the bell curve from me)
are taking up treasure hunting as a leisure fun activity. Ruh-roh. But I
digress.

The treasure aspects of birding were especially apparent today at the Fill.
I was slogging around the trails this morning, gasping in the heat, even
though it was only 10:00 a.m. and you know the afternoon is going to be
much, much worse. As usual when conditions like these apply, the Fill was
pretty dead. There were plenty of swallows again, and the odd sparrow or
yellowthroat, but everyone else was undoubtedly panting in the bushes trying
to catch a little shade. Stuart MacKay, who always seems impervious to the
weather, be it pouring sunshine or flashing lightning, was on the north end
of the main pond, at his usual spot taking digital pix (check out his web
site, by the way, at www.waders.org). He said he'd seen a lone least and
that was it - not the most exciting news a hot and tired birder like me
wants to hear. I wandered off along the south and then heard the magical
call of a long-billed dowitcher as it came swooping in from the latest black
hole. This bird is beautiful - very bright with highly saturated color. It's
not at all shy, so you can get quite close to study whether the black
coloration at the jointure of the neck and upper breast is dotty
(short-billed) or bar-y (long-billed). Although the bird keeps this
particular part of its anatomy annoyingly scrunched up, every now and then
it stretches its neck out fully, if just for a nanosecond. Great study.

I didn't see the barnacle goose reported yesterday. I did see a hybrid
domestic/Canada goose that got my heart pounding, but no.

Here's a complete list of what I found today:
pied-billed grebe
great blue heron
Canada goose
mallard
gadwall
killdeer
long-billed dowitcher
Vaux's swift
rufous hummingbird
downy woodpecker
American crow
tree swallow
violet-green swallow
cliff swallow
barn swallow
black-capped chickadee
Bewick's wren
marsh wren
American robin
common yellowthroat
savannah sparrow
song sparrow
white-crowned sparrow
red-winged blackbird
brown-headed cowbird
house finch
American goldfinch
house sparrow - Connie Sidles, Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com