The Goose Post

Welp - I tried to find a Ross's Goose in the scope, but the birds were too far away for me to easily succeed. Then they all took to flight, and I started snapping pictures. So many pictures! I'm going to be sorting through the hundreds of geese in each picture, trying to find the smaller goose in the mix. I believe it will be found! It would be smaller than a Snow Goose and will have a more delicate bill. Some geese will of course be placed at distances and angles that make some of those comparisons meaningless. But I'm rolling up my sleeves. 

Posting this for others to peek at as well. Some people may just be better at this (and enjoy it more?) than me. Dig in and let me know if you find a nice candidate. Feel free to drop thoughts in the comments! This could be "There are no Ross's Geese in Picture AP" or "What do you think of the 32nd goose to the right in Picture W?" If I feel like I've given a picture a full look, I'll add that to the captions. I may start lower down, as those images seem to be when the geese are closer and naturally sharper. 

Photo A

Photo B

Photo C

Photo D

E

F

G

H

I

J

K

L

M

N

O

P

Q

R

S

T

U

V

W

X

Y

Z

AA

AB

AC

AD

AE

February 18th - Smart Enough to Get Out of the Snow

Owl O'clock

Owl o'clock is of course a vaguely defined time, much like "twilight". If we adjust this to more specific terms, such as "Barn Owl o'clock" or "astronomical twilight", now we're speaking with some precision. I built my morning in Dayton around these kind of ideas. 

My first stop was at Lewis and Clark State Park, right around 5 A.M. This was before any of those twilight areas - during full dark. I've had my best luck with Western Screech-Owls during these hours. I parked outside the gate, booted up, and walked into the park. I'd been here owling before in January, which made it all the more comfortable. The snow reflected any ambient light, making it an easy stroll. I stopped, called, walked, stopped, called, and was pretty happy when I got a response. 

Of the owl calls I can do, I've never thought that my Western Screech- was very good. I can get a decent timbre to the whistle, and the right pitch. But that bouncing ball piece at the end is a bit of a challenge! I don't even think it was better than usual, but the owl seemed content to give me a soft response. So pretty! And. . . yeah, with more effort than that, and more equipment, and more time, I could have gotten a picture of the owl. I've just always been pretty content to let these little guys chill out, rather than try to get closer and hit them with the spotlight. 

This was my 73rd species for the year in Columbia County - a good start to the year! But I still had some good time available to try for a couple of other owls. 

1. Parking, 2. Great Horned Owl pair, 3. I hoped for Barn Owls 4. Northern Saw-whet Owl

There was a record of a Barred Owl six years earlier on Hogeye Hollow Road. I had looked this over, and this road had my interest for several reasons. The possibility of a Barred Owl, of course, was significant. Even as old as the observation was, it's rarely a *complete* accident when a bird chooses to hang out in an area. I looked at the area and thought it might not be bad for Barn Owl either, given the open fields nearby. 

The final interesting piece for me was the fact that Hogeye Hollow entered Walla Walla County, with a good chunk of habitat to check beyond the Columbia border. I'd found no owls in Walla Walla yet, so this felt like a nice free attempt. 

I parked on the side of the road on Gallaher, trying to confirm that the car was not impeding traffic or impeding any ambient feelings of safety and/or sovereignty of property. It seemed clean on both counts. 

Gosh what a nice walk. It wasn't all that slushy. Clean pavement or firmly packed snow through the whole walk. Traffic was non-existent, breezes occasional and gentle. It wasn't even all that cold. I just tromped along, stopping occasionally to throw out some owl calls. Great Horned Owls jumped on this fairly early. I left them behind by a good distance before trying to call again. Nothing of interest. 

Turning onto Hogeye Hollow Road, I crossed the road's namesake. Given the recent snow, it was not surprising that the hollow was not exactly hollow! Water ran through it, easily making it worth of creek status, if it were to maintain that flow year-round. I left the water behind and crossed into Walla Walla County. 

I suppose that having Great Horned Owls so nearby should have clued me in that I was unlikely to find another pair a short walk away. I still called for them! I also mixed in calls for other small owls, and finally added a Walla Walla County Owl - Northern Saw-whet Owl! 

It came from a bit of woods on private property. It would have been all but impossible to lure the bird out into plain sight, let alone get a picture. I point this out again because finding photogenic owls seems to be part and parcel of Eastern Washington birding. Simple call-response-identification-contentedness does not seem to be a common practice at all. For the purposes of keeping a list that is cosmetically airtight, I understand the interest. I do wonder if owls end up being greatly under-reported as a result. 

I guess I also wonder about the effect of extra attention on owls that are extra-discoverable. The Western Screech-Owl I found earlier that morning, for example, has almost certainly been photographed and/or will be photographed again over the course of this year. How much attention is too much for an owl? Who can say. I was happy to have identified three different species in a fairly small area without much effort on my part, and hopefully with little exertion on the part of the owls. 

Back to Lewis and Clark

After returning to the hotel for breakfast, I packed up and returned to Lewis and Clark State Park. I was still missing some "side pieces". You always start a jigsaw puzzle by putting together the border of the puzzle - easy pieces to find, and they help give a framework for other parts of the puzzle. Several of these side piece birds had been reported from the park, so I thought it wise to give it a try. 

It wasn't an extremely birdy morning, but I did find many of the birds that I'd found here in January - Black-capped Chickadees, Ruby- and Golden-crowned Kinglets, Song Sparrow, Dark-eyed Junco, Pacific Wren, and Red-breasted Nuthatch. It wasn't until I'd finished the loop through the park that I found two new birds - Brown Creeper and Hairy Woodpecker - bringing my year list to 75. 

Find the Brown Creeper! 
This is a big reason why they are good at what they do

Hairy Woodpecker - much cleaner and more contrast than ours on the West side.

From there, I was homeward bound! Nothing productive, and nothing really approaching adventurous. I followed some side roads in Walla Walla, but juncos and meadowlarks aren't much of a story. 

Columbia - 75; Walla Walla - 67

Not a bad start to the year! 

February 17th - An Equally Snowy Run through Columbia County

Dark-eyed Junco, aka "snowbird" - Dayton Fishing Pond Park

Trust the Process

It's 9 A.M., and I'm standing in a copse of trees at the Dayton Fishing Pond Park. 270 miles from home, in between two nights at a hotel. I've just found an American Dipper (the 66th species I'd found in Columbia County for the year), and then a Killdeer (67) on the edge of a frozen pond. A Red-breasted Sapsucker, extremely rare in this part of the state, had been found here recently, but I'd seen not a sign of a sapsucker. The snow is absolutely pelting down on me. I try to modify or minimize that assessment moment-to-moment, but all attempts are interrupted by more snow pelting down on me. 

I swear there was an American Dipper on that rock a second ago

And in this moment, I had a Wile E. Coyote kind of moment. One of those moments where, in the middle of an elaborate plan, it sinks in for the plan-maker that all variables may not have been accounted for. . . and maybe disastrously so. I thought of the difficulties from the day before - finding nowhere to even pull over to look for birds in Walla Walla County. French-be-pardoned here, but I was starting to come down with a deep, deep case of the fuckits.

But this was not my first snowy day of birding. I told myself to trust the process.

What is the process? Is there method to this madness? 

Killdeer - the wacky bird that probably started all of this madness

About ten years ago, I became the 28th birder in Washington State to have recorded 100 species in every county. It had been a focused effort for three or four years to get all counties up over the century mark. Another birding friend (who had just become the 10th person to record 150 species in every county) told me, "Congratulations! It'll take you just as long to get to 150 in every county..."

And I figured, if I went about it right, I could prove him wrong. I was certain that I could do it in a way that would take much longer than that! So, the 150 plan was born. For every county in the state, I am hoping to have a calendar year where I see 150 species. This is through monthly-ish visits. While I am doing a lot of research and planning. . . I mean, just look at my situation here, getting pelted by snow. . . I don't or can't plan around the weather as well as I'd prefer, sometimes. 

I have met this goal in 18 of the 39 counties in the state. Some of them were done solo, and some in pairs. One year even featured a quadruple 150! But two counties seems like a good sweet spot. My two counties this year are an odd couple indeed. The record for a year list in Walla Walla County is 266 species - a number narrowly exceeded by fewer than five other counties in the state. The record for Columbia County is 172. No county record is lower, although San Juan County is tied with Columbia for this. 

Cedars! I often find Red-breasted Sapsuckers on these trees at home
so these instilled me with some hope

Regardless of the county, I have enjoyed the exploration, the quiet time, and . . . the accidentals, for lack of a better term. Getting to hear the old fellas talk about UFO sightings over their morning eggs. Picking up some incidental geology, or entomology. Accepting offers to borrow a golf cart. . .

Somewhere in here, I found some hope. I hopped in my car and gave it a go in the snow.

Meteorology 101

Dayton, as it turns out, is at 1600 feet above sea level, tucked in against the Blue Mountains. Starbuck, my next destination, is at about 600 feet elevation, much closer to the Snake River. This made all of the difference. I mean, it was still snowing off and on, but it was very light. 

My first stop is one of the better spots in Columbia County, birding-wise. On eBird lists, it's been regularly and simply referred to by mile markers: "Highway 261, MP 6.2-6.6" is a common moniker. I'd say the good birding extends up to 6.0, but that just emphasizes the general theme. The fields here sometimes flood, bringing all kinds of waterfowl (yes! with Canada Geese and Mallards today), including shorebirds (just a few Killdeer on this day). On this particular day, their brushy edges (and perhaps snow at higher elevation) brought scads of White-crowned Sparrows. 

Red-winged Blackbirds (68) were new for the year. I tried to pull some Brewer's Blackbirds out of the mix but could not. Scanning through hundreds of White-crowned Sparrows, I finally got a good look at one that was different - a White-crowned Sparrow (69!). These are tough birds in the county, and it was nice to finally have hours of sparrow sorting pay off with a single unusual sparrow. 

Little Goose Dam

A drive to Little Goose Dam includes stops at other good spots nearby. I stopped at Texas Rapids HMU, where American Goldfinches and White-crowned Sparrows were singing riotously. A couple of buffleheads on the water added at least a little bit of duck diversity.

The dam itself was quiet (outside of what seems to be a resident Canyon Wren), but a little further above the dam, I came across some fun birds. Eared Grebes! (70)

Dusky cheek, compact build, and a peak over the eye, rather than clearly behind the eye.
Most importantly, the lower bill narrows near the tip, giving the impression that the
bill is slightly turned upward (although it is not)

These birds had been reported here off and on through the winter months. Not seen every year in the county, they are birds that have presented identification challenges for me at times. But a lingering Eared Grebe in a pond in Jefferson County the year before had led to some focused homework on my part, and I found that some of it actually stuck. The key that I was looking for was the bill structure. It seems like every other field mark can be tricky due to the posture, age, molt, lighting, whathaveyou of the particular bird. But birds can't really change their bill shape, per se! 

So this bird checked out on the most important ID feature, as well as several others. Two tough birds in on the day, I felt some wind in my sails. 

From Little Goose Dam Road

Lyons Ferry KOA

No longer open!

Stopping in Starbuck, I grabbed coffee. This always feels like a treat. Yes, because of the name. But also because of the friendly folks at the store.

I scanned the left side of the freeway carefully as I drove towards the KOA. There was a pond here that had historically held some of the waterfowl that I was still missing for the year. I did spy it as I drove - entirely frozen over. Ah well!

At the KOA, it was pretty quiet. Some Dark-eyed Juncos and European Starlings were the "highlights" off of the water. On the water, a pair of Western Grebes, not a trivial species in Columbia, shared the space with a single California Gull. 

Fletcher Road

With the calmer weather down at this elevation, I had some hope that Fletcher Road might be pretty drivable, and it did not disappoint. I also had some hope that Fletcher Road might be holding some American Tree Sparrows. On that point, it did disappoint. Mostly the usual suspects, although I was happy at least to catch a flock of Western Meadowlarks in flight. They usually seem to camouflage themselves so well in the lightest of groundcover. 

Tucannon Road

Bluebirds? Everyone likes bluebirds. Some had been see off and on through the last few weeks up around ... Manchego? Nope, that's cheese, let me look this up. Marengo! I knew I was close. How neat to look back at old eBird records here - I'd been up this road in 2011. That was the year when I'd decided (during my 39th year on the planet) to get to all 39 counties during the year and to aim for 39 species of birds in each county during that year. So, I'd definitely driven through Marengo before and camped a little farther up the road. There are many camping options along Tucannon Road, so I'm not too surprised. 

Wild Turkeys along Tucannon Road

If anything touched on memories from a decade and more earlier, it was the feeling of enclosure. The ridges on either side of this valley are packed in a little close. As I drove these miles, I pulled over now and then, but it was always in hearing distance of the loud rush of the Tucannon River. Maybe in warmer months, the riparian habitat would be more welcome, bringing better diversity of birds. Here in February, it led to a lot of short, unproductive stops. 

I eventually made it to. . . for lack of a better description, the "campgroundy" segment of Tucannon Road. Okay, admittedly it is not for lack of a better description. I'm just still early in schema-development geographically. Umatilla National Forest? WH Wooten Wildlife Area? I may have entered one or both of these. I stopped at any lake where it seemed like I could get a view - Spring, yes (and here I got my first Mountain Chickadees - 71); Blue, yes; Rainbow, no.

Unlucky, and unducky, I took the road as far as seemed reasonable, and got out to listen for other forest birds like Steller's Jay, Chestnut-backed Chickadee, or (be still my heart) Varied Thrush. Nope nope nope! None of this felt like wasted time - I loved booting up and tromping around a little in the snow. I liked getting a chance to scope things out for future visits. 

And most of all, most importantly of all, I loved that it was yet another example of the wisdom, discernment, and maturity in my decision-making. No need to go farther up the road. This guy wasn't going to get stuck anywhere. 

More of the same, minus wisdom and discernment, at the very least

My GPS. . . I mean, it's a 2019 Ecosport. I guess I just figure sometimes that the data on the darn thing is not that old. But time and again, it has me on roads that do not exist or believes that I am not on existing roads. As I returned down Tucannon Road, imagining that I'd need to head all the way down to Highway 12, then back to Dayton, I came across Turner Road. . . 

Horned Lark - Turner Road

I can find no source to explain or verify this, but I swear to you, in the moment, my GPS declared that Turner Road had a designated HWY number. Couldn't tell you what it was, but it engendered some trust in me. I thought, "Certainly a road with a HWY designation will give me a safe and easy drive. 

Nope. No, not really at all. There had been snow, and it had melted. I was not driving through snow. Worse. It was like. . . say you took a waterslide, and then filled it with gravel, and just kept filling it with gravel until a car could technically drive on it. But in all of this, you were able to maintain its integrity as a waterslide. As I drove 1.5 miles up a hill at 10-18 miles an hour, white-knuckled and reminding myself to keep up any speed I could get, it felt like the waterslide I just described. 

There was some maturity, at any rate, in the driving itself. I had the sense to keep up my speed, and the sense not to gun the gas, causing me to lose traction and. . . go down this waterslide. But it was not a fun ride. I got to the top, and recognized the same Turner Road that I'd been on in January. I had stopped somewhere around here as the roads started to get snowy. Driving it in reverse now, I was happy to see things get less snowy as I drove. 

Patches appeared on the south side of the road. In one of these, I found a bird that I expected would be challenging this year - Gray Partridge (72). 

I have used these words before to define the line between how I bird, and how I do not: gung-ho and hell-bent. I wonder if my GPS has picked up on my goals, and is more hell-bent than I ever will be? Maybe it was playing tricks on me to get me to some birds I would certainly have avoided? I can't say, but I was happy nonetheless to add one more check.

Dayton

Back in Dayton I quickly took advantage of restored cell service (it really doesn't exist reliably outside of dayton) and texted all interested parties, informing them of my safety. I grabbed dinner at Buckwheat Brewing and got to bed early, hoping to do some owling in the morning.