Birding outings are generally thought of as occurring at locations with some serenity and beauty! And, of course, this is normally the case. But at this time of year - at least in the Helena Valley - many or most of our migrants are already far to the south and the migrant species from the north that winter here are just beginning to arrive. So from mid-October into mid-December, one of the locations I frequent on my jaunts into the valley usually includes the Helena Valley Landfill - or "dump" if you will! Not the neatest place to visit but sometimes quite rewarding.
As long as there are some appropriate open water bodies in our area, like Lake Helena, and Hauser Reservoir, large numbers of gulls gather in our valley and use the landfill as their "refueling" station. Often, they number in the thousands. And very often, one can find some uncommon and even rare gulls species among them - at least for Montana. Some gull species can be among our more difficult birds to ID, especially because of differences in plumage among age classes and the relative frequency of hybridization. Recent advances in genetic analysis are sorting out some problems with species separation but may be adding confusion to other situations.
With so many gulls to sort through at the landfill, it can be difficult to separate out the rarer ones, especially with the adults. But with juvenile birds, which are very much in the minority, at least they stick out from the crowd. The largest percentage of the makeup is usually ring-billed gulls with Californias coming in next. Then there are the herring gulls whose larger size, pinkish legs and lighter eye color usually make ID fairly straight forward. But because their numbers are always in the lower single digits, mostly only one or two, the rarest are difficult to separate out. These include glaucous, glaucous-winged, Thayer's and maybe a Bonaparte's or Franklin's gull. And there is always the anticipation that one of the truly rare species like Slatey-backed or lesser black-backed gull might show up. One of my favorites is the glaucous gull whose great size and ghost-like coloration make the them pretty easy to pick out.
In Montana, there are several other locations where gulls, -with the possibility of rare ones - congregate. These places include the Kalispell landfill, and the open water areas of the Missouri River at Great Falls and below Ft. Peck dam. Most of the rare gulls found in Montana are found at these locations, especially below the dam at Ft. Peck. Veteran and expert birder Chuck Carlson who lives at Ft. Peck has documented a number of "first-of-state" gulls at this latter site, including Montana's first lesser black-backed gull in 2008.
26 October 2009
12 October 2009
Upland Bird Hunting vs. Birding vs. Dragonflies!
This is really not a competition per se but a discussion/analysis of three great outdoor pastimes of mine that have been competing for my recreational hours over the past several years. The genesis of this blog is the recent realization that for the first fall since probably 1955, I have not yet been upland game bird hunting.
A little history first! I grew up in a family of upland game bird hunters where the opening day of the season was a highly anticipated event, one not to be missed. From the time I was of legal age to hunt, opening day was a really big deal. My years in college put a bit of a crimp on this but I still managed to do some bird hunting no matter which state I was attending in. As soon as I began my working career, opening day again became a much anticipated day. That is until this year - when I didn't even realize I had missed opening day until several weeks after it occurred. So what is going on?
From my days of youth, I have always had some interest in birds. This interest intensified a while during college days because of some of the courses I took toward my degrees. But in my working years, my efforts at birding could pretty much be described as casual - pretty good with the larger birds and waterfowl associated with work or hunting, but mostly bird feeder watching during other times of the year. It was not until I retired that I became a very active birder who spent much of my leisure time learning and pursuing all categories of birds. Interest in wildlife and outdoor photography was a peripheral spin off that accompanied birding.
I think it must have been the digital photography "bug" that lead to my interest in dragonflies. While pursuing birds, these intriguing insects caught my eye - and my camera interest. Of course, once you have a picture of something, you - or at least I - have to know what it is! So about July last year, my interest in dragonflies began and it intensified very quickly into a passion.
Now for some analysis and comparisons of these outdoor pursuits. Seasonality, physical exertion required, active vs. passive pursuit, and mental acuity/learning curve required are all aspects that seem germane to this comparison.
Of these 3 pursuits, birding is obviously the only one not limited to a specific season, although in Montana, the winter season is less productive. Dragonfly season runs from mid-May to early October, and upland bird hunting has the shortest season - from Early September to December. As for physical demands required, bird hunting is tops with dragonflies next and birding probably following. Of course, birding of some types can require considerable physical efforts, but it can also be mostly pursued from inside or near a vehicle. For dragonflies, one has to exit the vehicle, but walking distances vary with the species sought. Because some dragonflies species are only found at higher elevation mountain sites in Montana, considerable hiking can be required to locate them. As for the amount of study/learning that is necessary to become proficient in any of these endeavors, birding likely has the highest requirement followed by dragonflies and bird hunting. With more than 400 species of birds possible in Montana and their sex and seasonal differences in plumage, there is a lot to learn to become proficient with these beautiful creatures. With dragonflies and closely related dameslflies, there are only about 80 Montana species.
The final comparison I'd like to make here is whether there is "active" or "passive" pursuit associated with each pastime. Bird hunting requires the active employment of a shotgun to target the quarry. In contrast, birding is almost entirely a passive sport with quality optics and good field guides the only requirement for proficiency. During my first season of pursuing dragonflies, a partial one beginning in July2008, binoculars and camera were the only equipment items I used. So for the most part, I had to locate dragon/damselflies that were perched in order to attempt identification. Prior to the 2009 season that just concluded, I purchased a butterfly net that could be used to capture and identify dragonflies that were often seen flying, but very difficult to find perched. This added an entirely new dimension to my dragonfly hobby, and one that required some persistence and skill. Initially, it was very frustrating to try to capture some of the larger dragonfly species - whose speed and reflexes are almost beyond description. But through perseverance, my skills and knowledge for netting these amazing insects increased to the point that it was really enjoyable. Was I consistently successful in netting them? Certainly, that was not the case, but it sure was fun trying. My efforts frequently lead to very amusing and sometimes wet conclusions. However, in most instances, the results were rewarding and this new approach to dragonfly chasing added greatly to my enjoyment.
So as the years keep gaining on me, birding will likely remain a mostly year round interest of mine with dragonflies coming in second and bird hunting fading into the twilight. But I'll have to revisit this scenario occasionally in the future, for who could have guessed several years ago that dragonflies would now consume most of my discretionary time in the summer months.
For the present, my task at hand is to get more of you interested in the pursuit of dragonflies! I don't think you will regret joining me and a few others!!
A little history first! I grew up in a family of upland game bird hunters where the opening day of the season was a highly anticipated event, one not to be missed. From the time I was of legal age to hunt, opening day was a really big deal. My years in college put a bit of a crimp on this but I still managed to do some bird hunting no matter which state I was attending in. As soon as I began my working career, opening day again became a much anticipated day. That is until this year - when I didn't even realize I had missed opening day until several weeks after it occurred. So what is going on?
From my days of youth, I have always had some interest in birds. This interest intensified a while during college days because of some of the courses I took toward my degrees. But in my working years, my efforts at birding could pretty much be described as casual - pretty good with the larger birds and waterfowl associated with work or hunting, but mostly bird feeder watching during other times of the year. It was not until I retired that I became a very active birder who spent much of my leisure time learning and pursuing all categories of birds. Interest in wildlife and outdoor photography was a peripheral spin off that accompanied birding.
I think it must have been the digital photography "bug" that lead to my interest in dragonflies. While pursuing birds, these intriguing insects caught my eye - and my camera interest. Of course, once you have a picture of something, you - or at least I - have to know what it is! So about July last year, my interest in dragonflies began and it intensified very quickly into a passion.
Now for some analysis and comparisons of these outdoor pursuits. Seasonality, physical exertion required, active vs. passive pursuit, and mental acuity/learning curve required are all aspects that seem germane to this comparison.
Of these 3 pursuits, birding is obviously the only one not limited to a specific season, although in Montana, the winter season is less productive. Dragonfly season runs from mid-May to early October, and upland bird hunting has the shortest season - from Early September to December. As for physical demands required, bird hunting is tops with dragonflies next and birding probably following. Of course, birding of some types can require considerable physical efforts, but it can also be mostly pursued from inside or near a vehicle. For dragonflies, one has to exit the vehicle, but walking distances vary with the species sought. Because some dragonflies species are only found at higher elevation mountain sites in Montana, considerable hiking can be required to locate them. As for the amount of study/learning that is necessary to become proficient in any of these endeavors, birding likely has the highest requirement followed by dragonflies and bird hunting. With more than 400 species of birds possible in Montana and their sex and seasonal differences in plumage, there is a lot to learn to become proficient with these beautiful creatures. With dragonflies and closely related dameslflies, there are only about 80 Montana species.
The final comparison I'd like to make here is whether there is "active" or "passive" pursuit associated with each pastime. Bird hunting requires the active employment of a shotgun to target the quarry. In contrast, birding is almost entirely a passive sport with quality optics and good field guides the only requirement for proficiency. During my first season of pursuing dragonflies, a partial one beginning in July2008, binoculars and camera were the only equipment items I used. So for the most part, I had to locate dragon/damselflies that were perched in order to attempt identification. Prior to the 2009 season that just concluded, I purchased a butterfly net that could be used to capture and identify dragonflies that were often seen flying, but very difficult to find perched. This added an entirely new dimension to my dragonfly hobby, and one that required some persistence and skill. Initially, it was very frustrating to try to capture some of the larger dragonfly species - whose speed and reflexes are almost beyond description. But through perseverance, my skills and knowledge for netting these amazing insects increased to the point that it was really enjoyable. Was I consistently successful in netting them? Certainly, that was not the case, but it sure was fun trying. My efforts frequently lead to very amusing and sometimes wet conclusions. However, in most instances, the results were rewarding and this new approach to dragonfly chasing added greatly to my enjoyment.
So as the years keep gaining on me, birding will likely remain a mostly year round interest of mine with dragonflies coming in second and bird hunting fading into the twilight. But I'll have to revisit this scenario occasionally in the future, for who could have guessed several years ago that dragonflies would now consume most of my discretionary time in the summer months.
For the present, my task at hand is to get more of you interested in the pursuit of dragonflies! I don't think you will regret joining me and a few others!!
11 October 2009
The Tradition Continues!
Last weekend, my son Matt and I headed out of Helena about 5am toward Freezout Lake Wildlife Management Area (WMA), near Fairfield, Montana. That Saturday was the beginning of the 2009 waterfowl season in Montana. And for me, it was the continuation of a tradition that now entered its fifth decade. By no measure could I be considered a fanatic or even an avid waterfowl hunter. But this place and this tradition flow in my blood. Some of the great memories that these opening days have etched into my brain over these 42 years have faded a bit, but others are still vivid. They will likely remain with me and hopefully sometimes evoke a chuckle for all of my remaining years. As I recall, the only opening day I missed during those many years was 1977 - when daughter Melissa was due to enter the world sometime during October. She waited until mid-November!
This Freezout Lake opening day waterfowl hunt tradition began in 1968 with my brother Cliff. Over the ensuing years, various other friends and family joined in, and most subsequently bowed out for various reasons, too often because they are no longer with us - except in spirit. One of the first to join us was John Beitenduefel, a giant of a man with a heart and repertoire of jokes just as big. He always kept us laughing, sometimes not intentionally. One time John followed us out into the marsh wearing an old pair of felt-soled hip boots - with the felt worn off but rubber rims remaining. Cliff and I reached our usual hunting spots about as shooting hours began, but John was no where to be seen in the dim light. After a while we could hear someone cussing and struggling to make it thru the marsh. Of course, it was John. His felt-less hip boots were acting like suction cups in the famous Freezout mud. A usual 20-minute walk turned into an energy sapping effort for our favorite comic. After catching his breath, John joined us in laughter, and the story was retold for many years thereafter. Opening day 1992 was the last time I hunted Freezout with John. The fact that he had to stop to catch his breath several times that morning while walking a road out to our chosen hunting spot should have given me and our other hunting partners a clue. About 3 weeks later, while John was teaching some young kids how to hunt safely, he died of a heart attack at age 57!
We were fortunate enough to have our father join us for many Freezout opening day hunts. One of the more memorable ones was in the mid-1980's. At that time in his life, his eyesight was temporarily compromised because of cataracts, and he could see very little out of his dominant right eye. The solution? Shoot left handed! This is a very difficult adjustment for someone to make who has been shooting right-handed 70 or more years. We were fortunate that morning to find an area on the marsh where the mallards wanted to land and feed. As they approached us we called out their direction, and Dad had a respectable day - shooting left handed! His last day on the marsh with us was 1988.
Cliff's son Steve joined us for the tradition when he turned 12 years old in 1974. Those first several years of waterfowling can be tough on young hunters as they learn to connect with the fast flying birds. Matt's first year was 1992, and he struggled as well with hitting birds. But learn they did. In the image below, the leather strap Matt is using to carry his ducks was made by Dad out of some moose hide about 1980 or so.And these days, the success rate of bagging birds has shifted in their favor! Steve continues with the tradition when work responsibilities don't interfere, and hopefully Matt and I will continue for as long as my legs are able to master the mud in the marsh. Good friend Vern Schneider was the latest member to accompany us. Although he has not been able to join us for the past several years, hopefully he will return to join us when his ensuing retirement comes to be next year.
Over the years, my love affair with this marsh and the tradition have evolved. At first, bagging a bunch of birds may have dominated my/our enjoyment. As the years passed, love of the marsh and its biota, friendship and camaraderie, and watching our dogs retrieve birds took their rightful place. The gorgeous sunrises that often accompany opening morning speak for themselves. And Freezout is not just an opening day experience. Toward early November, when waters farther to the north in Canada freeze up, tundra swans and white geese use Freezout as a way-point on their long journey south. Laying on a dike on a "bluebird" day watching tens of thousands of geese pouring into the lakes and marshes of Freezout is a sight to behold. From many thousands of feet high, their V-formations disintegrate into a mass of twisting and turning white bodies as they spiral downward toward a much needed rest.
While Freezout Lake WMA was established primarily for habitat protection, and for hunters and hunting, it has taken on a new dimension in relatively recent years. Fall waterfowl migrations are a great natural phenomenon, but springtime brings an even greater spectacle of nature. Numbers of geese and ducks and swans using this area sometimes reach into the hundreds of thousands in spring. And a new tradition has now begun for many Montanans and others from out of state. A late March or early April visit to Freezout is now penned on many calendars to remind folks that the white geese and swans will be stopping here in huge numbers, and it is time to plan a trip there. The upsurge of interest in birding has also changed the visitation pattern to the area. Over 200 species of birds have been recorded as migrating through and/or breeding at Freezout. I frequently visit in late spring just to enjoy the many different species found breeding there and in late summer to revel in the the concentrations of shorebirds frequently found on the mudflats. Indeed, even on opening day, my binoculars are now often focused on winged visitors other than waterfowl.
Were we successful on our hunt last weekend? That depends on how one measures success! From my present day perspective, any day spent with friends and/or family in an outdoor setting like Freezout is immeasurably successful, regardless whether or not any game are harvested!
Over the past decade or so, my interest in hunting - and for that matter fishing - has waned to the point that other outdoor interests now dominate my days. But Freezout has become an integral component of my mind and flows pretty much continuously in my blood. May my last days - hopefully many years from now - be spent enjoying and absorbing the wonders of this very special place!
This Freezout Lake opening day waterfowl hunt tradition began in 1968 with my brother Cliff. Over the ensuing years, various other friends and family joined in, and most subsequently bowed out for various reasons, too often because they are no longer with us - except in spirit. One of the first to join us was John Beitenduefel, a giant of a man with a heart and repertoire of jokes just as big. He always kept us laughing, sometimes not intentionally. One time John followed us out into the marsh wearing an old pair of felt-soled hip boots - with the felt worn off but rubber rims remaining. Cliff and I reached our usual hunting spots about as shooting hours began, but John was no where to be seen in the dim light. After a while we could hear someone cussing and struggling to make it thru the marsh. Of course, it was John. His felt-less hip boots were acting like suction cups in the famous Freezout mud. A usual 20-minute walk turned into an energy sapping effort for our favorite comic. After catching his breath, John joined us in laughter, and the story was retold for many years thereafter. Opening day 1992 was the last time I hunted Freezout with John. The fact that he had to stop to catch his breath several times that morning while walking a road out to our chosen hunting spot should have given me and our other hunting partners a clue. About 3 weeks later, while John was teaching some young kids how to hunt safely, he died of a heart attack at age 57!
We were fortunate enough to have our father join us for many Freezout opening day hunts. One of the more memorable ones was in the mid-1980's. At that time in his life, his eyesight was temporarily compromised because of cataracts, and he could see very little out of his dominant right eye. The solution? Shoot left handed! This is a very difficult adjustment for someone to make who has been shooting right-handed 70 or more years. We were fortunate that morning to find an area on the marsh where the mallards wanted to land and feed. As they approached us we called out their direction, and Dad had a respectable day - shooting left handed! His last day on the marsh with us was 1988.
Cliff's son Steve joined us for the tradition when he turned 12 years old in 1974. Those first several years of waterfowling can be tough on young hunters as they learn to connect with the fast flying birds. Matt's first year was 1992, and he struggled as well with hitting birds. But learn they did. In the image below, the leather strap Matt is using to carry his ducks was made by Dad out of some moose hide about 1980 or so.And these days, the success rate of bagging birds has shifted in their favor! Steve continues with the tradition when work responsibilities don't interfere, and hopefully Matt and I will continue for as long as my legs are able to master the mud in the marsh. Good friend Vern Schneider was the latest member to accompany us. Although he has not been able to join us for the past several years, hopefully he will return to join us when his ensuing retirement comes to be next year.
Over the years, my love affair with this marsh and the tradition have evolved. At first, bagging a bunch of birds may have dominated my/our enjoyment. As the years passed, love of the marsh and its biota, friendship and camaraderie, and watching our dogs retrieve birds took their rightful place. The gorgeous sunrises that often accompany opening morning speak for themselves. And Freezout is not just an opening day experience. Toward early November, when waters farther to the north in Canada freeze up, tundra swans and white geese use Freezout as a way-point on their long journey south. Laying on a dike on a "bluebird" day watching tens of thousands of geese pouring into the lakes and marshes of Freezout is a sight to behold. From many thousands of feet high, their V-formations disintegrate into a mass of twisting and turning white bodies as they spiral downward toward a much needed rest.
While Freezout Lake WMA was established primarily for habitat protection, and for hunters and hunting, it has taken on a new dimension in relatively recent years. Fall waterfowl migrations are a great natural phenomenon, but springtime brings an even greater spectacle of nature. Numbers of geese and ducks and swans using this area sometimes reach into the hundreds of thousands in spring. And a new tradition has now begun for many Montanans and others from out of state. A late March or early April visit to Freezout is now penned on many calendars to remind folks that the white geese and swans will be stopping here in huge numbers, and it is time to plan a trip there. The upsurge of interest in birding has also changed the visitation pattern to the area. Over 200 species of birds have been recorded as migrating through and/or breeding at Freezout. I frequently visit in late spring just to enjoy the many different species found breeding there and in late summer to revel in the the concentrations of shorebirds frequently found on the mudflats. Indeed, even on opening day, my binoculars are now often focused on winged visitors other than waterfowl.
Were we successful on our hunt last weekend? That depends on how one measures success! From my present day perspective, any day spent with friends and/or family in an outdoor setting like Freezout is immeasurably successful, regardless whether or not any game are harvested!
Over the past decade or so, my interest in hunting - and for that matter fishing - has waned to the point that other outdoor interests now dominate my days. But Freezout has become an integral component of my mind and flows pretty much continuously in my blood. May my last days - hopefully many years from now - be spent enjoying and absorbing the wonders of this very special place!
Labels:
Freezout Lake,
waterfowl hunting
01 October 2009
Pelagic Birding
Skua. Fulmar. Petral. Shearwater. To the casual birder, these names may sound more like ancient beasts of some sort, but they are pelagic type bird groups highly sought after by avid birders. The term pelagic refers to deep water areas of open ocean, at the edge of or beyond the continental shelf. Last week, I had the opportunity to join such a trip leaving from Westport on the Washington Coast. About a dozen of these trips per year are sponsored by an outfit called Westport Seabirds, that has been conducting these trips for about 30 years.
As John Steinbeck said in his "Travels with Charlie", if Montana had a seacoast, it would be the finest place in the world to live. Having been raised spending much time on the Chesapeake Bay and Atlantic Coast, I do miss not having an ocean nearby here in Montana. So the opportunity to combine a birding trip with an open ocean experience is one that I relish. And this trip fulfilled those desires.
We left port just before sunrise on the "Monte Carlo", a boat of about 60 feet or so in length. As the boat's name might imply, birding is no sure thing, and although my hopes were high as usual, locating target bird species is always a gamble. My target for the day was a South Polar Skua. The outgoing tide at the inlet made for a pretty rough entry to the ocean - but that really felt good to me. The waters of the ocean were calmer with swells in the 7-8 foot range. Bird action began pretty quickly with a Leach's Storm-Petral, and Sooty Shearwaters were soon sighted gracefully skimming over the surface of the swells. And then there were Pink-footed and Buller's Shearwaters. We headed well off shore toward a commercial fishing boat that usually attracts large numbers of seabirds, but it was not as productive as expected because of the type of fish it was after. However, our first Black-footed Albatross of the day was nearby.After reaching the Gray's Canyon area, about 40 miles off shore, the crew did some chumming to see what other species we could attract. Species such as Northern Fulmars, a Fork-tailed Storm-Petral, more albatrosses and several Jaeger species appeared but none in great numbers. I should mention here that the expert birders who always accompany these trips really are good! Their abilities to sight birds and ID them from long distances are exceptional and likely come from the many years that they have spent on the oceans in this type of endeavor. One of the non-birding highlights of the trip occurred on our way back to shore. Two small pods of Humpback Whales were sighted, although they were not especially cooperative at surfacing near the boat.
One note of caution! Seasickness can result from either physical or probably mental causes. About a half dozen folks on the boat were unfortunate enough to be the victims of this malaise. So prepare yourself! Specific remedies and medications seem to work for some individuals and not others, so one must experiment to see what works for them. This poor chap is NOT praying! I happen to be fortunate enough to get by with no medications, although I must admit that the mental aspects sometimes make me a little queezy.
Not too far from the inlet, someone on the bow of the the boat yelled "Skuas". Since that was my target bird for the day, I hurried up to the bow and got a look at them thru my binoculars and then took some pictures - that turned out to be quite mediocre. I should mention here that taking quality pictures of fast flying birds while trying to keep from falling in a rolling boat is quite a challenge. And I was not very successful in meeting that challenge - as evidenced by the marginal quality of the bird images I took.
While we didn't see large numbers of birds for the day, nor anything especially rare, it was a great trip and one that I hope to repeat each year while visiting daughter Melissa and family near Seattle.
As John Steinbeck said in his "Travels with Charlie", if Montana had a seacoast, it would be the finest place in the world to live. Having been raised spending much time on the Chesapeake Bay and Atlantic Coast, I do miss not having an ocean nearby here in Montana. So the opportunity to combine a birding trip with an open ocean experience is one that I relish. And this trip fulfilled those desires.
We left port just before sunrise on the "Monte Carlo", a boat of about 60 feet or so in length. As the boat's name might imply, birding is no sure thing, and although my hopes were high as usual, locating target bird species is always a gamble. My target for the day was a South Polar Skua. The outgoing tide at the inlet made for a pretty rough entry to the ocean - but that really felt good to me. The waters of the ocean were calmer with swells in the 7-8 foot range. Bird action began pretty quickly with a Leach's Storm-Petral, and Sooty Shearwaters were soon sighted gracefully skimming over the surface of the swells. And then there were Pink-footed and Buller's Shearwaters. We headed well off shore toward a commercial fishing boat that usually attracts large numbers of seabirds, but it was not as productive as expected because of the type of fish it was after. However, our first Black-footed Albatross of the day was nearby.After reaching the Gray's Canyon area, about 40 miles off shore, the crew did some chumming to see what other species we could attract. Species such as Northern Fulmars, a Fork-tailed Storm-Petral, more albatrosses and several Jaeger species appeared but none in great numbers. I should mention here that the expert birders who always accompany these trips really are good! Their abilities to sight birds and ID them from long distances are exceptional and likely come from the many years that they have spent on the oceans in this type of endeavor. One of the non-birding highlights of the trip occurred on our way back to shore. Two small pods of Humpback Whales were sighted, although they were not especially cooperative at surfacing near the boat.
One note of caution! Seasickness can result from either physical or probably mental causes. About a half dozen folks on the boat were unfortunate enough to be the victims of this malaise. So prepare yourself! Specific remedies and medications seem to work for some individuals and not others, so one must experiment to see what works for them. This poor chap is NOT praying! I happen to be fortunate enough to get by with no medications, although I must admit that the mental aspects sometimes make me a little queezy.
Not too far from the inlet, someone on the bow of the the boat yelled "Skuas". Since that was my target bird for the day, I hurried up to the bow and got a look at them thru my binoculars and then took some pictures - that turned out to be quite mediocre. I should mention here that taking quality pictures of fast flying birds while trying to keep from falling in a rolling boat is quite a challenge. And I was not very successful in meeting that challenge - as evidenced by the marginal quality of the bird images I took.
While we didn't see large numbers of birds for the day, nor anything especially rare, it was a great trip and one that I hope to repeat each year while visiting daughter Melissa and family near Seattle.
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