Hey tweets, You know the saying, "No pain, no gain"? It's often said by
those of our species who love to fill their leisure hours with exercise.
You see them a lot at the Fill, jogging around and around with grimaces on
their faces and calves that resemble oakwood. I, on the other hand, belong
to the Robert Maynard Hutchins school of leisure. Hutchins, the past
president of the University of Chicago, used to say, "Whenever I feel like
exercise, I lie down until the feeling passes.?

Having said that, however, I do believe that pain is a necessary part of
birding. Take yesterday, for example. Brian Bell had told me about a
Virginia rail that he had seen at the Fill the day before. He said it was
promenading along a mudbank near the wooden bridge, right out in the open.
Brian made it sound like if the day had been Easter, that bird would just
as soon have been strolling down Park Avenue in a fancy bonnet.

So early yesterday morning, I parked in the dime parking lot, walked
across the wooden bridge and commenced looking for the rail on parade. Not
only did I never find the rail, I never even found the mudbank! I did,
however, find a host of mosquitoes for whom I became the host.

When these painful moments occur, I find myself wondering whether I should
just pack it in and take up knitting. Muttering under my breath, I headed
back to the car, kicking any unlucky stone that happened to cross my path.
But as I was getting out my key, I glanced up at the willow tree where the
old wooden bridge used to be and saw a flash of orange fly in. I clapped
my binoculars to my eyes, focused on the branch, and lo and behold, there
was a BULLOCK'S ORIOLE posing in the sunlight. It was a male in full
breeding plumage, glowing like it was lit from within by a hurricane
candle. Nearby, a female oriole was gleaning insects from a branch. Time
stopped. I have no idea how long I stood there watching those two lovely
creatures. I do know that I left before they did. I crept into my car and
drove off as quietly as I could so as not to disturb the orioles. I wanted
to leave while they were still in view so that I can keep imagining them
in that tree, wild and beautiful and not dependent on humans for anything
except appreciation of their wondrous beauty.

Now mind you, I don't engage in magical thinking. I don't believe that I
somehow paid for my oriole moment with the four mosquito bites that I'm
even now scratching, or with the humliation of not being able to find a
stationary mudbank in plain view. But I do think that birding would not be
as special if we always succeeded in finding the birds we seek. Without
the failures - the fruitless chases, the soaking rain, the boot lost in
bottomless mud, the outwardly sympathetic (but inwardly gleeful) birder
who tells you, "You should have been here five minutes ago" - birding
would lack the sense of wonder that for me is such an integral part of
nature. When I saw that male oriole, my whole being began to shine as
brightly as that bird's softly glowing feathers. It was a gift that
brought me as much happiness as finding long-lost treasure. I did find
treasure - real treasure, better than gold.

Here's everything I found at the Fill yesterday:
pied-billed grebe (several pairs nesting in various ponds)
double-crested cormorant
great blue heron
Canada goose
mallard
gadwall
green-winged teal
northern shoveler
cinnamon teal (3 on Shoveler Pond)
lesser scaup
bufflehead
osprey
bald eagle
sharp-shinned hawk (seen day before, hunting over the main pond)
ring-necked pheasant (perched on the swing set in the cottonwood grove)
American coot
killdeer
SPOTTED SANDPIPER (foraging in the cattails on the north shore of Union Bay)
glaucous-winged gull
Caspian tern (two flying over the lake the day before)
rock pigeon
Vaux's swift
rufous hummingbird
downy woodpecker
northern flicker
Steller's jay
American crow
tree swallow
violet-green swallow
barn swallow
cliff swallow (flocks gathering mud from Shoveler Pond)
bushtit
black-capped chickadee
Bewick's wren
marsh wren
American robin
European starling
cedar waxwing
common yellowthroat
song sparrow
savannah sparrow
white-crowned sparrow
red-winged blackbird
brown-headed cowbird
BULLOCK'S ORIOLE
house finch
American goldfinch
house sparrow - Connie, Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com