Subject: Fill Fulfillment
Date: Aug 12 12:29:33 2004
From: Connie Sidles - csidles at isomedia.com


Hey tweets, With the recent news of a red-footed falcon spotted in Martha's
Vineyard on Tuesday, I've been thinking about vagrants and strays today. As
I sat on my camp stool this morning at the Fill, watching a green heron
watching me, I fantasized about hopping on a plane and flying east to see
that falcon. I figured chasing the falcon would be a good investment in my
future. I know that when the newest edition of National Geo comes out and
lists red-footed falcon as a North American bird, it will gripe me
mercilessly that I was sitting on my camp stool instead of driving to the
airport. I know this because I sat on my duff years ago when every birder in
the Northwest drove up to BC to see the Xantus' hummingbird. I didn't go
because I had to work, I had to take care of my family, the bird would be
gone when I got there, and somebody would discover that it had been a
release. I made up dozens of excuses not to go. Sure enough, the latest
edition of National Geo lists Xantus' hummingbird as a North American bird
now. Birders still talk about it from time to time, causing me to make
another appointment with my dentist. "Connie, Connie," he says, "you simply
must stop grinding your teeth." A lot he knows.

I tried to make myself feel privileged this morning to be watching a green
heron, one of my special sightings and a popular bird on tweeters too. Okay,
I was glad to see the heron, very glad, but not ecstatic the way I know I
would be if I was sitting on my stool looking at a red-footed falcon, a bird
I didn't even know existed until today. Then I realized that my attitude
needs adjusting.

We birders have a classification system for good birds and bad or ordinary
ones. I do this myself. In my posts to tweeters, I always list at the end of
my post all the birds I see on my Fill jaunts, but I highlight only the
birds that I think are special.

Good birds, even great birds, tend to be uncommon. Who needs to hear about
the bazillionth barn swallow flying around catching bugs? We barely care,
unless someone is doing a study or unless it's the first swallow of the
spring. No one wants to know that mallards were on a pond, unless (as in the
latest issue of WOS News) there happened to be 32,000 of them gathered at
once. No, we'd rather focus on the new and different. So I post about the
house wren I saw at the Fill the other day, only the second one I've ever
seen there. Or the pileated woodpecker flying in to perch on the dead beaver
snag at the point.

Some of the most special birds in our lives are the strays, like the
red-footed falcon. They're special because they aren't supposed to be where
they are. I too love these kinds of spots. I am still walking on air after
having seen the black-tailed gull on Monday. But I also remember how excited
some Florida birders were one spring when they spotted a lazuli bunting in
the bushes in Fort DeSoto. Everyone I passed for two days asked me if I had
seen the bunting. I asked them where to see Cape May warblers. We all looked
at each other quizzically. Why would they care about a common bird like a
lazuli bunting, I thought. Why would she care about a Cape May warbler that
we see every single spring, they wondered. It was all pretty ridiculous.

Not all good birds are uncommon strays. Some just seem to have their own
star power. Peregrine falcons can be seen nearly every day in our area, but
we always post them anyway. In fact, we treat all the raptors as celebs.
Lincoln's sparrows, all warblers, all vireos, fox sparrows, all shorebirds
are noted with satisfaction. Why should Bonaparte's gulls be viewed with
delight while ring-billed gulls are scarcely mentioned and glaucous-winged
gulls are disdained as "just another gull"?

Some birds are classified as bad. Cowbirds always make it to the evil bird
list. I've been out with other birders who, when they see a cowbird, note it
with an expression of revulsion on their faces. As nest-parasites, cowbirds
do have a bad effect on other bird populations, but so do barred owls here
in our state, and no one reviles them. Cowbirds are fascinating birds. The
females seem completely unable to make a nest. How did they get that way?
Scientists used to think that cowbirds were newly evolved nest-parasites.
They thought so because cowbirds don't destroy the other eggs or babies in
the nest. This turned out to be just another cowbird slam, as recent
evidence (in NY Times Science section this week) shows that many parent
birds bring more food to the nest overall when other babies besides a
cowbird baby are in it. The baby cowbird gets more food, along with the
other baby birds. It's the avian version of "A rising tide lifts all boats,"
I guess.

I think we should all be a bit wary of lionizing (now there's a word!)
certain animals over others. Nature, in all its myriad diversity, is what is
glorious. That is not to say that we should fail to take action when a
particular species becomes a problem because its own natural controls are
nonexistent. But I think we do need to make a vigorous, pro-active defense
of all of Nature's creatures and not just the ones that we find cute or
glitzy. Or perhaps we should do what my friend Irene told me was the secret
to a happy marriage: "You will find," she said wisely, "that sometimes your
husband will do things that will grate on your nerves. Maybe he'll leave his
smelly sox out on the floor, or maybe he'll make funny noises when he chews
his food. Don't let your happiness depend on making him change. Instead,
work on yourself to make you realize that these habits of his are cute."

I'm trying, Irene. I'm telling myself that I just love that little flock of
bushtits that went scampering by. I'm thrilled at the rufous hummingbird
that just buzzed my head. I could watch the three spotted sandpipers pick
bugs off the loosestrife at the main pond for hours, while two long-billed
dowitchers bob obliviously nearby. All these things are deeply true and fill
my soul with unimaginable happiness. They are the Fill, and the Fill is
awesomely wonderful. But a part of my spirit is boarding a plane to Boston
and flying to Martha's Vineyard. Oh. Oh.

Here's everything I saw today at the Fill:

pied-billed grebe
green heron
great blue heron
Canada goose
mallard
gadwall
green-winged teal
wood duck
spotted sandpiper
long-billed dowitcher
glaucous-winged gull
ring-necked pheasant
rock pigeon
Vaux's swift
rufous hummingbird
belted kingfisher
northern flicker
barn swallow
northern rough-winged swallow
American crow
bushtit
black-capped chickadee
Bewick's wren
American robin
cedar waxwing
European starling
common yellowthroat
spotted towhee
savannah sparrow
song sparrow
red-winged blackbird
house sparrow
American goldfinch
house finch - Connie, Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com