Hey tweets, birding proves that oft-quoted adage: It ain't over till
the little bird sings."

This morning at the Fill was about as slow as I've ever seen. There was
one Cedar Waxwing in the parking lot, a couple of Barn and Violet-green
Swallows circling the cottonwood grove, and that was IT. Not even a
crow in sight. On the main pond was one Ruddy Duck, all by his
lonesome. Nothing else but the wind was moving. I began to get worried
that in order to find my self-imposed quota of 20 birds, which I must
find before I go home every day, I would have to spend the night there
and carry on to Monday morning. Not a happy prospect, considering the
weather predictions were calling for rain.

Sure enough, the clouds moved in just as I reached the wedding rock.
All of a sudden birds were popping up everywhere: two Warbling Vireos
skirmished in an aerial dogfight above the bushes, while an
Orange-crowned Warbler foraged below. A daddy Spotted Towhee showed
junior where to find the best scratching place in the grass.
Hummingbirds were buzzing around everywhere - all Anna's, I think, but
they were moving so fast and there was so much else going on, I could
never tell. Three juvenile Brown-headed Cowbirds were tsping around a
White-crowned Sparrow - I think at least one of them, if not more, had
parasitized the frazzled-looking sparrow. Bewick's Wrens hitched
themselves up and down the branches of a serviceberry bush, and House
Finches nibbled on blackberries, joined by little flocks of Cedar
Waxwings. A Northern Flicker glided by and perched on the light
standard south of the CUH building.

Altogether in that little glade were 17 different species of birds. It
was entrancing. - Connie, Seattle

constancesidles at gmail.com