Hey tweets, school is out for the week, so I've been running around
like a gerbil trying to get all my birding done in between the
raindrops. Saturday, we headed down to Westport ahead of the gale and
found the WHITE-TAILED KITE at Bottle Beach. It's got to be our easiest
chase ever. We barely stepped out of the car, and there it was, perched
on a bare, dead sapling a mere 50 yards from the trail (and 20 feet
from our car). It was gazing down at the reeds below, looking for
something to eat.

We set up the scope and I got to look at its fluffy white head, a
powder puff of feathers. "Aww, how cu....," I remarked. But before I
could finish, the bird lifted its head and looked straight into my
eyes. The word "cute" died aborning. Nothing cute about this bird. Its
fierce gaze was hundred percent hunter, zero percent Bambi. It made me
realize, for the millionth time, that birds are not like us. Perhaps no
animal is, except possibly dogs. Birds may share many basic impulses
and biologies with us, but we do not share being.

I read somewhere that the part of our brain used to recognize human
faces is larger than in any other creature. You can see how true this
is by opening a bag of potatoes. Every potato is different, but no
matter how long we gaze at one potato, trying to re-create it in our
minds is quite a chore. We have to really struggle. Trying to recognize
Grandpa's face, though - even if it does resemble a potato - is easy.
This trait, really a compulsion, seems to drive us to put everything
into human terms. Copernicus may have been correct astronomically; he
was surely wrong psychologically. The sun and everything else does
revolve around us. Makes it harder to preserve habitat purely for other
critters; better for us birders if we can find ways to put human value
on such things.

So as a kind of human challenge, a treasure hunt to reward myself, I
sped off yesterday to find the NORTHERN MOCKINGBIRD on Whidbey. It was
just where it's been reported. How it ever found that spot, out of all
the suitable other spots it could have found in the state, beats me.
But there it was.

As a bonus, I birded Whidbey Island for the rest of the day until the
rain moved in. Two bonus birds: BLACK OYSTERCATCHERS at Penn Cove. Also
found: numerous HARLEQUIN DUCKS diving within inches of the shore at
Libbey Beach, along with a RED-THROATED LOON, and a very puzzling flock
of all-male buffleheads. Where were the females? I didn't know the
answer, so I drove home and made myself a baked potato. - Connie,
Seattle

csidles at isomedia.com