Hey tweets, You know that Clash lyric, "Should I stay or should I go?"
followed by a heavy beat from the band, as presumably, one ponders whether
one should stay or go? It isn't always easy to answer. For example, my
husband and I found ourselves singing that song very early on Saturday
morning, as we toasted our toes in front of our electric fire, drank coffee,
rustled the newspaper, and read the abysmal weather reports, which ranged
from really iffy to downright nasty. It was so easy to sit there and make up
reasons why we should continue to sit there. But although we do get some
great yard birds occasionally, the fact of the matter is, we aren't going to
see birds if we don't get out amongst 'em. Besides, Gina Sheridan had made
it impossible for us to just sit. She and Gary Kuiper had followed Terry
Little's advice and gone to the Gifford Campground burn to look for
woodpeckers. Gina told me driving conditions were good, considering the
season, and we could easily make it into the campground - barring the latest
winter storm that was barreling down the track. Should I stay or should I
go? She had found BLACK-BACKED WOODPECKERS, a bird I have been searching for
for 20 years. And she had found them by walking a mere hundred yards from
the parking lot. How can you pass up an opportunity like that?

So with some whinging and groaning, we set out for the far northeast of
Washington. It is a heckuva drive from Seattle, especially for birders like
us, who find it difficult to drive more than 200 yards without stopping to
see something really cool. We once spent three days driving 70 miles from
the airport to my in-laws' house in Iowa. The relatives were certain we were
crashed in a ditch somewhere, no doubt unconscious which explained why we
didn't call. The relatives were about to call the state patrol when we blew
in, having stopped literally every hundred yards to look at lifer birds.
Relations with that side of the family have never quite recovered.

So you can imagine how hard it was for us to pass up paying a visit to the
American Dippers who live under the bridge near Ellensburg, the Prairie
Falcon you can sometimes see near Frenchman Coulee, and... well, you see.
But we were on a mission, so with only four stops along the way, we made it
to Gifford Campground by 3 p.m.

Gina had told me to walk up into the burn a hundred yards and listen for
tapping. Following her directions to the letter, John and I did soon heard
so much tapping we didn't know where to look first. The place was stuffed
with woodpeckers, including glorious, stunning female and male BLACK-BACKED
WOODPECKERS. At one time, I had a PILEATED, a HAIRY, a BLACK-BACKED and a
NORTHERN FLICKER in my binocular field at the same time. We also saw large
numbers of PYGMY NUTHATCHES, WHITE-BREASTED NUTHATCHES, MOUNTAIN CHICKADEES,
BUSHTITS, DOWNIES, FLICKERS, and even a flock of RED CROSSBILLS. Awesome.

The BLACK-BACKED WOODPECKERS were attacking trees at head-height. The female
was so focused she didn't care if we came almost to within touching
distance. The male was a little shyer - if we got too close, he would
ratchet himself around the tree to the far side. But he too would stay at
the same tree for extended periods of time, flaking off bark furiously. We
got a good look at the chips of bark being flaked by him and the other
woodpeckers. Each chip was chock full of little holes, presumably from
insects. The woodpeckers were all in fine feather. The HAIRYS and DOWNIES
were spanking white, and when the sunlight (for there was sunlight, at least
on Sunday) shone on the PILEATED's crest, it caught fire and glowed.

We stayed until almost dark, caught up in the woodpeckers' world. The
Gifford Campground burn must have been a very hot fire. The ground is pitted
with deep holes where trees used to stand. The trees burned so thoroughly
that they burned right through and toppled over, leaving nothing at all in
their root holes. A very few trees still have green at the tops, but you
wonder if those trees will die too, just more slowly than the ones killed
immediately by the fire. You could easily view the scene as one of utter
destruction. But then, but then you see the woodpeckers. They are thriving.
And you learn a deep lesson about how nature wastes nothing. - Connie,
Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com