Subject: [Tweeters] My Favorite Thrush
Date: Jun 7 01:10:14 2014
From: Dan Reiff, PhD - notcalm at


Your post gave me a great idea for a new TV series: My Favorite Martin.

Dan Reiff
Mercer Island

Sent from my iPhone

On Jun 6, 2014, at 6:24 PM, Jeff Gibson <gibsondesign at> wrote:

> A few evenings ago, needing some relief from "Alzheimer's Acres" (my parents home which is my temporary digs) here in Port Townsend, I took a walk. One of those "self therapy" deals, I guess. I needed it.
> So I bopped over to Fort Worden State Park and parked my ol' truck there just past the Copper Canyon Press, publisher of some fine poetry. That's just another thing Port Townsend has going for it.
> It was a sort of rare evening in typically breezy Port Townsend - just about dead calm. I took a long walk up the hill through the dry fir forest, past all the old fort stuff. I didn't realize what I was really needing until I got it - quiet. It was very quiet, particularly for spring. Some Robins were snooping for worms along the road edge, but they weren't saying anything. The evening sun was streaming light through the trees. Very nice.No other hominids around. Quiet.
> It was so darn quiet that I was able to hear something wonderful - my first singing Swainson's Thrush of the season, off in the distance. In the mostly silent forest I was able to get up very close to the bird and hear that fabulous song. Now I was really feeling better! I listened a long time.
> What is my favorite thrush? I am incapable of deciding. In all of the Turdidae - our various thrushes, solitaires, bluebirds and all, I find picking a favorite, even just by song, impossible. Sure that Swainson's is incredible, but how about all the others! At four in the morning hereabouts, Robin is the song. Each place, each habitat, each time of day, has it's thrush it seems, sometimes more than one.
> It was so quiet after I walked away from the singing thrush that I was able to hear the faint croaking of a Chorus frog, which I thought was unusual in this dryish forest. Every time I stopped walking down the paved road, the croaking stopped. When I walked it started again. Finally I realized it was my left boot croaking - my boot apparently needs some maintenance. Something more noticeable when it's really quiet in the woods.
> "Self" therapy? Is anyone really alone in the woods? Not with trees, sun, thrushes, and croaking boots to help.
> Jeff Gibson
> just sayin', in
> Port Townsend Wa
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