Hey tweets, Yesterday I could not resist the pull of the birds in eastern
WA, so I headed out at 7 a.m. The drive was the most spectacular I have ever
seen. Going up toward Snoqualmie, I saw the mountains backlit by the rising
sun, with wisps of fog making the trees and hills seem to float in a golden
haze of glory.

My first big stop was at Elk Heights at the entrance to LT Murray WR, where
a MOUNTAIN BLUEBIRD greeted me by singing on the entrance sign. Talk about
the blue bird of happiness: I knew I was in for a great day.

At Huntzinger Road in the morning, I located the big flock of scaups
everyone has been talking about. They were floating on a river that was so
still and clear you could hardly tell what was a reflection and was real
scenery. There was not a breath of wind. I set up my scope to start scanning
the flock, when all of a sudden, a bald eagle appeared and began harassing
the flock. Some ducks flew off, others dove as the eagle flew back and
forth, coursing like an oversized peregrine. Then the eagle plunged, hooked
a hapless scaup and flew off. I hesitate to mention, because I didn't get a
good look at the scaup in the eagle's talons, but I never could locate the
tufted duck in the flock. The flock did split up into several pieces, with
scaups flying off in all directions. But even when I returned in the late
afternoon and found the flock more or less reassembled, I couldn't find the
tufted duck. Maybe another tweets will relocate the duck this weekend. I
hope so.

Still, my time at the edge of the road wasn't wasted. While I was waiting
for the flock to come back, I noticed a small bird foraging in the rocks
below my scope. It turned out to be a ROCK WREN. I don't think the bird knew
I was there because it was quite bold and gave me great looks in perfect
light. As it looked for prey, it sang softly to itself, kind of like I do
when I'm out birding alone.

The next thing to appear on my great-day list was a little flock of 6
VIOLET-GREEN SWALLOWS. I know you will all share my exhilaration at seeing
these little guys back for the summer. There is no feeling quite like it. I
guess at heart, I always worry that we humans will have screwed up the
planet so much that someday, the swallows will not return. Either they'll be
too disgusted with their northern habitat, or they'll be too depleted by
trying to survive in their southern habitat. Seeing the swallows come back
assures me that the world is still a beautiful place.

Nature was not through with me yet. On the drive between the dam and Getty's
Cove, I saw what I first took to be two cardboard cutouts of CHUKAR on the
side of the road. Then they moved and I realized they were real, live birds.
You may laugh at my mistake, but I've been fooled several times by the faux
great horned owl that someone has perched on the microwave ladder near the
dam. That wooden carving had somehow caused my brain to assume that all
really great birds along the roadside there must be fake. Besides, I have
looked so hard for chukars and failed so dismally, I guess I never expected
to see any. As a matter of fact, last time I hunted for them, I got picked
up by the police outside Ellensburg. The cop wanted to know why I was
driving so slowly and scanning everyone's yard. He didn't believe me when I
told him I was looking for chukars. Luckily, when he ran my name through
Interpol (or whatever computerized database the police in Ellensburg
employ), I was in the clear. Still, I think I'd better avoid Ellensburg for
the next several months. I definitely don't want jailbird on my life list
(sorry, I couldn't resist). - Connie, Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com