Hey tweets, Long time, no hear. I've been tied to my desk for the past
month, eating my liver while I read all your posts and here I am stuck
inside, missing another spring.

Not to worry. The Fill made up for a lot yesterday. The highlight for me was
a SORA out in the open, taking a bath on the main pond. I see soras only
about once every two years at the Fill, although I know the little beggars
are around every season - I can sense them holding vast Morris dances in the
reeds and laughing as I try vainly to spot them.

This one behaved as though it didn't see a soul, coming right out into the
open to splash its wings in the water, just like the starlings nearby. A
couple of times, the sora thinned itself and dashed back into the bushes,
but then it returned to resume bathing.

Soras out in the open always appear to be oblivious to bystanders, which has
puzzled me for years. I mean, the birds are so shy and so fond of skulking,
wouldn't they be even more so when they are out of cover? Nope. Rather, they
act like they're still well hidden.

I had a dog once, a cocker spaniel named King, who was the most loving
character but not what you'd call brainy. He used to love to run away from
our yard in the morning just as we were leaving for school and work. His
goal was to stay out all day. Toward that end, he would hide behind the
nearest tree when we went looking for him. Unfortunately, the nearest tree
was a sapling only wide enough to hide his eyes. King never seemed to
realize that all the rest of his body was sticking out in plain view. He
always acted so surprised when we walked right up to him and collared him
before he could get away. That expression of surprise was the same
expression the sora wore when it realized that it was being observed by two
birders yesterday. Definitely not the most domed egg in the carton.

Also on the main pond were four PECTORAL SANDPIPERS, another curious crew.
One pectoral was highly aggressive and chased the others all over the place.
It really went after one of its fellows, putting its head down and stalking
its victim just like the Canada geese do when their minds are filled with
malevolent plans to get me if they can. The pectoral didn't hiss, thank
goodness, and of course it can't compete size-wise with a goose that, when
angered, seems to be able to extend its neck a full 8 feet. But still, that
pectoral was a bit scary. A real ankle-biter if it had chosen to go after
people. Imagine what Alfred Hitchcock could have done with a bird like that.

Also on view, Vaux's swifts and a cinnamon teal. Here's a list of everything
I found yesterday:

pied-billed grebe
double-crested cormorant
great blue heron
Canada goose
mallard
gadwall
green-winged teal
cinnamon teal
Virginia rail (heard, not seen)
sora
killdeer
pectoral sandpiper
least sandpiper
glaucous-winged gull
ring-necked pheasant
rock pigeon
Vaux's swift
Anna's hummingbird
northern flicker
violet-green swallow
tree swallow
barn swallow
cliff swallow
American crow
black-capped chickadee
bushtit
Bewick's wren
marsh wren
American robin
European starling
common yellowthroat
savannah sparrow
song sparrow
white-crowned sparrow
red-winged blackbird
brown-headed cowbird
American goldfinch - Connie, Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com