August 16th - Hazy Orange and Dusky Blue

The World was Orange

The Columbia River... or perhaps Mars

A fire roared south of Ellensburg as I made the trip from Renton towards Douglas County. The smoke was billowing up over Manastash Ridge, and heading Northeast from there towards Douglas. Taking my usual route into the county, I actually broke free of the smoke for a bit before I circled back into it. 

Are you a footprint expert? Mollusk-er? What's all this? 

The shot here is from the Apricot Orchard Boat Launch. I liked the *idea* of this place, so I took another look for the odd gull or tern, or maybe even a heron or pelican on the river. It was pretty dang quiet, bird-wise. It was just quiet. There was a nice breeze, and the smoky sky kept things at a pretty pleasant temperature.

It had been a pretty long week. Week? That is a word for people whose weeks end. Four writing projects had slipped into seven, and deadlines were often stepping on each other's toes. Rather than run away for a day, and then jump right back into it, I decided to go with a lazy three days. Lazy work-wise, because I'd be birding with most of my waking hours. Lazy birding wise, because I was going to be writing back at the hotel in the evening, and again in the morning before heading out. 

I'd also narrowed down the places I truly needed to visit for my August trip. Shorebirds were the main course for the trip, with a side of river views like this. The mud along the river, and some of the footprints piqued my interest, so I just found a big rock and sat on it. 

Chalk this up as just another one of those moments where words don't really do it. I can tell you the world was orange, that the sandymuddy shores of the Columbia were speckled with mollusk shells that I couldn't recognize, my brain simply registering this lazily. I can say the temperature was "nice", and that the sound of the water lapping up against the shore. Nobody needed anything, and (my birding "needs list" notwithstanding) I didn't need anything either. 

The sum of all of those words just still falls short. For this, I deeply apologize, and just hope y'all are getting out there and finding unspeakably pleasant simple moments of your own. 

Union Hill Cider Company

On the other side of the fine line

It's amazing how much difference a little drive made. I went West and watched the blue, cloudy sky grow in front of me while the orange and haze passed behind me. I'd forgotten to check on the hours at Union Hill Cider, but knew I had my summer "shipment" to pick up. I rolled into the driveway, and was greeted by one of the owners. They were closed, but he was happy to get the bottles to me. Being a sucker for cleverly named beverages, I also picked up a bottle of "Sur lie, you can't be serious", a cider that was allowed to spend a little time in some oak barrels. 

Not an uncommon sight during the trip

In retrospect, I would have to say this was the first positive customer service I experienced on the trip. That's a weird way to put it... What you need to realize is that during this *whole* trip, anywhere I stopped, people were about 20 percent more pleasant. I knew that this bit would end up sounding like a Yelp review of the county, but it was notable, so I was willing to risk that characterization. 

I made my standard pass through the Scrub-jay "bushtit" neighborhood. Windows down, listening for anything interesting. Nothing. It's fine. September will give me that scrub-jay. 120 percent guaranteed.

Check-in

Two Lego hands reaching across the sky to each other, right?

I dropped in at the Holiday Lodge in Wenatchee with vaguely guilty feelings for my lack of county fidelity here - how could I lay my head down in Chelan County during this year?? But for a two-night stay, I really did need to hunt down the best rate I could. A quick look at the time, and at the time for sunset told me that I needed to squeeze in some quick shorebirding.

Waterville STP

On the way to the STP - clear skies

Oh boy. I gotta tell you folks, shorebirding stresses me out. I mean, yay! fun. But I'M NOT VERY GOOD AT BIRDING is the chorus in my head any time I'm looking at shorebirds. Lesser or Greater Yellowlegs? Short- or Long-billed Dowitcher? Western or Least Sandpiper? Killdeer, or American Avocet? 

Some of these questions are questions that I struggle with. I mean... not all of them, of course. pfft. What kind of birder do you take me for? 

Wilson's Snipe! A nice unexpected softball 
of a shorebird to open my visit.

The sun was a little lower, but still gave me enough to work with. As I rolled in to the STP, the first pond was fairly empty as expected. I rolled up to the second, and dozens of peeps took flight from the near corner, flying to the other side of the pond. This was a pattern I worked hard to work around during all of my time here. The birds were fairly close and well lit during some golden moments, so I was happy with the efforts. 

A Wilson's Snipe was the first and easiest bird of the evening. It even stayed still as I took the picture. All to try and quiet my doubts. Thanks, Wilson's Snipe. I appreciate the gesture.

Circling the pond counterclockwise (the correct way to circle these ponds in these situations), I picked up Least and Western Sandpipers, Spotted Sandpipers and Killdeer. These were not new. 

Three birds, however, were new. One of them was not too hard on me: Red-necked Phalarope (bird 192 for the year!). 

In the fall, these guys come flying through Puget Sound. I remember the first ones I found, whirling around in circles in the wake behind a ferry to Vashon. The marks behind the eyes and the thin bills narrow down the ID pretty easily. I needed the book for this, but it was at least easy with the book. 

The next bird for the year was a little harder. One of them has its butt poking into the picture there. Even from that, I can just about ID it now, but at the time, my brain had to squint a little bit. Baird's Sandpipers (193) have wings that are longer than the tails. I usually have to 1) look that fact up, and then 2) pantomime folding my wings back so that I can think about which ones are "the top ones" on the bird 3) look back at the picture in the book, and then finally 4) look at a bird posing like you can see above, where it's actually not immediately obvious which one is longer. 

This is like... a half hour of me figuring out a Baird's Sandpiper. 

Like these birds. Maaaybe the top one is more obvious? At any rate, my focus was on this. I also know vaguely that they are buffy. They have buffiness. Again, it's usually back to the books to see where. Buffy breast band. Roger. That's something visible on these birds too. The next thing (for me) is the legs. They're black. I remember that now, and should be able to remember that next time. . . right? There's something else about the face that really should be simple for me. I'm looking at the faces right now, and I just know it's not some other peep, they're just Baird's Sandpipers. 

Finally, mixed in with some Long-billed Dowitchers, and trying to act like them was this bird:

And of course, at first my brain says: It's with Long-billed Dowitchers, and it's smaller... Boom. Short-billed Dowitcher. But looking at it in the book, I knew this was wrong pretty quickly. It may not even have been until the trip back to the hotel that I accidentally thumbed past Stilt Sandpiper (194), and realized that it's what I was looking at. There are descriptions out there that say appear to borrow features from both yellowlegs and dowitchers. 

Perfect.  I can work with that. 

See... for me, confusion species are gold. I need to know what to compare a bird to, and I need to know what the difference is between the two birds. But in the birding world, unfortunately it feels like few people get as confused as I do! The first time I saw a Stilt Sandpiper, I asked a birder with me, "So... what's a bird that someone could confuse this with?" And they just shook their head and said, "Nothing. It's a distinctive bird." 

Waterville STP 

Please folks... cognitive empathy. The world won't lose anything with a little cognitive empathy! And like... let's start with shorebird identification if you want, but keep running with it. 

1) Think of all of the pieces of a bird.

2) Think about other birds that have similar bits and pieces.

3) Cognitively piece together how someone could get to a different conclusion if they were looking at the wrong bits and pieces, or not looking at the important ones. 

4) Try to help. Make it a place where people don't feel bad asking questions. 

Westward bound - Highway 2 at sunset

I've found these abilities in some of the best birders, and in some novice birders. Can you care about proper identification AND have cognitive empathy? I honestly think it's possible. You can say, "Oh.. I understand how that's similar to a yellowlegs, for sure." even if you'd never personally mix up the two.

In a world where people more and more know that they've got things right, and that the other people are idiots, would a little cognitive empathy help? Oh lord yes. I know we started on shorebirds, but... there's a lot of "Why don't those idiots understand . . . " out there. 

Sorry for the ramble, y'all. Sorry for all the rambling! At the end of the day (as it was here), there's some things that are more important than these bird identifications, and they sometimes slip in here. 

Not a bad evening! I slipped back down off the plateau, and back to Wenatchee, enjoying the dusky blue sky as I drove. I was guilty of sneaking a little work in before my head hit the pillow.