Hey tweets, Today the Fill reminded me of the airport. You know how, when
you're out at the airport, minding your own business as you wait like
Patience on the rock for your flight to take off, and then out of the blue,
you bump into someone you haven't seen in a long time? A feeling of
well-being and happiness just washes over you, as you greet each other and
catch up on old times. Best of all, the encounter is spontaneous and - now,
this point is key - it happens away from home, so you don't have to clean
your house, cook dinner or get dressed up. Or frabjous day.

That's the feeling I got this morning when I stopped by at the golf driving
range and saw this season's first savannah sparrow. "Hey, look at you," I
said with a big smile. "Where ya been? How ya doing? Whatcha been up to?
You're looking mighty fine."

He was, too. His plumage was bright and clean, and his yellow lores gleamed
in the sunshine. He didn't have much to say for himself - hasn't settled in
yet nor found a mate, you know. After all, he just got here. He'll start
singing soon, I'm sure.

Further on, on the other side of the slough, I found the season's first
violet-green swallow, another long-lost friend. He was too busy to stop,
though. The spring warmth had brought out a host of newly morphed
mosquitoes, and the swallow had to take care of bidness. No time to
schmooze. He managed to dip a wing as he flew over my head, but that was
all.

It was a great day to be out at the Fill. Everybody was either coming,
going, or thinking about it. The hooded merganser females were busy fishing
and ignoring the males, who raised their hoods hopefully but in vain. The
coots got a good scare when a young bald eagle cased the joint, and Silent
Cal, my favorite belted kingfisher, was moved to raise objections. The
yellow-rumped warblers - both myrtle and Audubon's - are coming into their
full glory, and the place was simply stuffed with them. Bewick's wrens were
flying back and forth with wisps of plants in their bills, reminding me that
I should be at home cleaning and repairing the house for spring too. I
turned my head away and pretended I hadn't seen them. There's nothing so
annoying as an industrious neighbor out there sprucing up everything while
all you want to do is loaf.

In one way, the hustle and bustle of the Fill today was even more wonderful
than the similar to'ing and fro'ing of old friends at the airport.

That's because the arrival of the spring migrants validates the very real
fact that something is still right with the world. The violet-green swallows
and savannahs can still find their way home despite all the FUD (fear,
uncertainty and doubt) that otherwise seems to fill the air.

I know that our environment is threatened by the carelessness and ubiquity
of my species. I know that bird numbers have fallen dramatically and that
more birds teeter on the edge of being listed as threatened. I know that my
oldest son is in the Marine Corps and will probably get sent to Iraq. I know
all this, and the knowledge presses down on me like the sad planet carried
by Atlas on his shoulders. (I also know that I probably bombed the master
birder test; heavy sigh here.) Sometimes I too am bent down with grief.

When this happens, I go to the Fill. I walk around. I sit on my blue camp
stool. I soak up the silence and the songs. And the knowledge that come
spring, the swallows will appear like they'd been shot out of a black hole,
and the savannah sparrows will start singing their grassy song. As they have
for thousands of years. As they will.

Here's everything I saw today:
pied-billed grebe
double-crested cormorant
great blue heron
Canada goose (including a herd of tiny cacklers scarcely bigger than ducks)
mallard
gadwall
green-winged teal
American wigeon (including a really strange-looking wigeon with totally
cream cheeks, chin and foreneck - a cross between American and Eurasian,
perhaps?)
northern shoveler
ruddy duck
ring-necked duck (I saw the male's ring today in strong sunlight! It's a
beautiful, rich brown)
greater scaup
lesser scaup
bufflehead
common merganser
hooded merganser
American coot
killdeer
glaucous-winged gull
bald eagle
red-tailed hawk
ring-necked pheasant
rock pigeon
Anna's hummingbird
belted kingfisher
northern flicker (both red and yellow)
downy woodpecker
tree swallow
violet-green swallow
Steller's jay
American crow
bushtit
black-capped chickadee
Bewick's wren
marsh wren
ruby-crowned kinglet
American robin
European starling
yellow-rumped warbler (Audubon's and myrtle)
spotted towhee
savannah sparrow
song sparrow
white-crowned sparrow
gold-crowned sparrow
red-winged blackbird
American goldfinch
house finch - Connie, Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com