A weekend of mythic style began for us in Puyallup when Clarice and I
decided it was likely to be too stormy to look for birds on Saturday, so we
spent the afternoon munching popcorn in a cinema while Brad Pitt, the
"greatest warrior ever" (or something like that) carved up the armies of
Troy, always somehow being able to swordfight each adversary one at a
time. I kept looking for Homer in the story, but he isn't there. When we
left the weather was fine, so we took a spin around Bradley Lake Park.
First neat sighting was of golden crowned kinglets, feeding fledglings, in
the fir trees southeast of the pond. I was surprised at this breeding at
Puyallup's low elevation. The babies were terminally cute.

Today we followed up with a walk through the watershed behind our
house, along Clark's Creek. Lots of activity (of course) with tree
swallows, kingfishers, herons, and more babies, this time song sparrows.

We then traversed the WSU experiment station where there are a
couple of wetland mitigation ponds (cinnamon teal, cliff swallows nesting
on the barn behind, much like Nisqually refuge). There we got a once in
a lifetime long, close up, look at a Virginia rail. I have had good,
detailed looks at them before in Texas, where in the evenings they sort
of languish about outside of the reeds to enjoy the way the end of the
day finally cools off, just like Texans sitting on their front porches. But
this was our first really good views of our more Lutheran Washington
rails, who (for us at least) have always stayed properly concealed in the
densest reeds. For some reason this bird had a mud flat that was too
good for hiding, and worked it only a few feet from our toes.

Suddenly, marsh wrens came flying out of the reeds like popcorn. So
much din and so many cocked tails-- every cattail stalk had a denizon
clinging and chattering. Then a beautiful little long tailed weasel
bounded out of the reeds onto the road we were standing on, and
stopped. The warrior weasel looked momentarily confused, and started
to return to its thicket when it found itself pricked by bird after bird.
Wrens, swallows, and a starling all took turns diving and going for blood.
four times the weasel reversed course and tried for cover on one side of
the road or the other, each time to be thwarted by another aerial attack.
The wrens seemed to follow a Trojan battle plan, coming in one at a time
to the attack. But unlike myth or movies, these little terrors were
completely up to the task. You almost felt sorry for the weasel, but finally
he got away. I wonder if he came back later with a wooden horse?

Jerry Broadus, PLS
Geometrix Surveying, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Puyallup, WA. 98371