Hey tweets, I am swearing off pishing. My son Alex, a very strict birder,
has castigated me in the past for calling in birds. He believes that a
birder should have the skills to spot a bird where it is and how it is - no
human manipulation. I've gone along with Alex on tapes (result: very short
owl life list); the squeaker things you can buy at the Nature Shop (result:
sparrow list could use some work); and learning to call like a pygmy owl
(result: warbler list needs beefing up). But pishing has always seemed so
innocuous to me. And besides, I can do it when Alex's back is turned, and he
isn't always certain it's me making that noise.

No more. I'm quitting the pishing game. Going cold turkey. Sticking to the
cardinal virtues. Starling behavior. Pure as the driven snow (goose). Why?
Because I just can't take the disappointment anymore, not after today.

I was sitting under the crab apple tree down near the point at the Fill this
morning, waiting for the birds to show up. This is a good place to watch the
treeline that borders the cattails at the north end of Union Bay. I've often
seen great warblers, vireos, phoebes, and flycatchers here, and my hopes
were high for a rarity (well, my hopes are always high for that). Anyway,
nothing was showing up at all. The Fill today was spotty: some great
hotspots for sparrows at the compost pile near the weather station;
absolutely nothing - not even one bird - at the wedding rock. Marvelous
activity of yellow-rumped warblers, sparrows, wrens, a bold great blue
heron, and a spectacular yellow-shafted flicker at the north end of the main
pond; nada at the south end.

Sitting there under the crab apple tree, with nothing in sight, the
temptation crept upon me. Why not try a little pishing? Surely a little
pishing wouldn't disturb the birds' normal behavior, would it? Pishing
doesn't carry very far, so curious birds don't have to waste their energy
flying in to see what's up, do they? Food is abundant this time of year, so
bothering the birds with the tiniest, whispery pish, almost a woofle,
really, wouldn't hurt them, would it? Alex is in Washington, DC, now, 3,000
miles away. What he doesn't know won't ruffle his feathers. Besides, purity
is for the young and idealistic. We older folks know that the world is not
black and white but filled with grays. Right?

Well, I pished. And I pished. Bupkus. I could almost hear Alex's voice in my
mind saying, "See, I told you not to do that." Then I got this eerie feeling
that someone was watching me. I looked guiltily around, thinking a
disapproving birder might have tiptoed up behind me. Nope. I still had the
feeling, so I kept scanning. Not 30 feet away, perched on a bare branch was
a huge Cooper's hawk, one of the biggest and most beautiful I have ever
seen. My eyes bugged out on stalks like a snail's.

The hawk was eyeing me in a most peculiar manner. I suspect that when I
pished so loudly, she was called in, thinking, "Wow, this has got to be the
biggest, fattest towhee or thrush or who knows what I ever struck in my
puff." Only to arrive and see me. I have a feeling that the hawk was
overjoyed at first, thinking her ship had truly come in. But then, studying
the situation, she must have begun to realize that bagging such a big prey
presented certain logistical problems - problems that in the end were just
too big to overcome. I think I must have met the hawk's eyes just at the
moment when she realized that she was going to have to give me a pass.

If birds could sigh, this one would have let out a gusty one. A wave of
guilt flooded my brain. Who needs a disapproving son staring gimlet-eyed
right through me when a hawk can do as well?

If you've ever been on the receiving end of a bird's look that was as
reproachful as this one, you'll understand why I say that from now on, my
lips are sealed. I am on the pishing wagon.

Here are all the birds I saw today:
pied-billed grebe
double-crested cormorant
great blue heron
Canada goose
mallard
gadwall
green-winged teal
American wigeon
northern shoveler
wwod duck (male in breeding plumage)
bufflehead
American coot
glaucous-winged gull
ring-billed gull
red-tailed hawk
Cooper's hawk
rock pigeon
belted kingfisher
northern flicker (both yellow- and red-shafted and one intergrade)
Steller's jay
American crow
black-capped chickadee
red-breasted nuthatch (rare for the Fill)
Bewick's wren
ruby-crowned kinglet
American robin
European starling
yellow-rumped warbler
spotted towhee
song sparrow
Lincoln's sparrow
dark-eyed junco (somewhat unusual for the Fill)
white-crowned sparrow
golden-crowned sparrow
red-winged blackbird
house sparrow
American goldfinch
house finch - Connie, Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com