Hey tweets, I dropped everything yesterday - husband, son, cat, house,
work - and tore up to Samish Island to find the blue-footed booby.

I don't always chase the rarities that others find - chases can be so
thrilling when you succeed and such bummers when you don't. But I've been
yearning to see a blue-footed booby for more than 20 years.

So I found myself sitting on the steps leading down to the beach at Wharf
Road, looking out at a nonexistent gull-flock-with-booby-attached. No
flock, no gulls, no booby. The water was flat, and so was my chase. As I
sat there waiting for birds to show up, I asked myself, "What would be the
worst thing that could happen on this chase?"

I reviewed chases that I have known and hated. The Eurasian kestrel that
was easy to find until the day I went up to the Skagit. The pink-footed
goose that was in a flock of 10,000 Canadas, all spooked by a man with two
dogs just as I got my scope aligned. The latest episode, looking for rails
at Kahlotus Lake - and *not even being able to find the lake*!!!

So many memories to choose from. At first I thought the worst thing would
be to arrive at the site to find a group of grinning birders who would
say, "You should have been here 15 minutes ago." Then I thought, no, it
would be worse to wait for a couple of hours for no bird, give up, and
then come home to learn that every tweet and his brother had found the
bird a mere 15 minutes after I left. Then I decided that even that
dreadful experience would pale beside sitting for hours to no avail, then
getting in the car and driving frenetically all over the bay area for
hours, and then returning to that same group of grinning birders who would
say, "You should have been here 15 minutes ago."

As it happened, I met up with two other birders, and we spent the rest of
the day driving in a caravan from place to place, looking in vain for the
booby. We never found it, but we did find good stories, beautiful nature,
and the deep camaraderie that people can develop when they share a passion
for birds.

For me, birding is often a solitary activity wherein I renew my spirit and
search for peace. So it's wonderful to be reminded that birding is also a
communal experience that magnifies my own world. Pete Dunn once said,
"Birders are the nicest people I know." Being out in nature with two of my
fellow birders was an enriching experience - almost as good as finding
that elusive booby.

Well, okay, to be honest, I would have been over the moon if I had seen
the booby. But encountering two new friends did produce the following
happy result. When I got home and my husband asked me, his voice filled
with anticipation, "Did you see his little blue feet?", I could answer
"no" with a smile on my face. That's got to be a first after a fruitless
chase. - Connie, Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com