Staying Power

Life for endangered streaked horned larks poses many risks, but one member of this subspecies of horned lark continues bringing hope to conservation efforts aimed at protecting the birds, returning to his nesting site in western Washington year after year and lasting longer than even the identification band that gave him his name.

Photo of a horned lark (not Pinky though).

Born in 2009, Pinky the streaked horned lark keeps showing the tenacity of his subspecies. Last year, South Sound Prairies, an organization that promotes conservation, restoration, and preservation of native prairies in the South Puget Sound region, announced that Pinky had returned (still sporting his pink identification band) and built a nest at the Joint Base Lewis-McChord military installation.

Considering that the oldest horned lark on record was about eight years old, according to the Cornell Lab of Ornithology's All About Birds site, and that fewer than 1,000 streaked horned larks remain in the wild, the news brought great excitement. Over the winter, I thought about Pinky occasionally and hoped 2017 would bring equally happy news about him. This year, the venerable Pinky returned again, sporting a slightly different look. Now eight years old, he'd lost his trademark pink band, but that didn't keep him from nesting in his familiar spot.

I learned this year's good news about Pinky while birding at the Glacial Heritage Preserve on Prairie Appreciation Day last month. The ornithologist who told me about Pinky couldn't hide his excitement and pride. That's understandable, especially given the endangered status of the subspecies and the powerful symbol of hope Pinky has become.

With that, I'd like to wish Pinky another great year with safe travels. Stay pink, my friend!

Early After All This Time

The Glacial Heritage Preserve and the Black Hills
on Prairie Appreciation Day 2017.

The seemingly contradictory claims that "good things come to those who wait" and "the early bird gets the worm" came together at the Glacial Heritage Preserve in southwest Washington state last week to make one special experience.

Every year in early May, the preserve opens to the public for Prairie Appreciation Day. Offering wildflowers, educational booths, and a chance to catch up on all the work done to protect the important prairie environment near Puget Sound, the event celebrates spring and environmental preservation.

My mom and I used to go before I began my doctoral studies, but because of school and work commitments, I've had a long wait between chances to enjoy Glacial Heritage. Last year, I stopped in for the first time since 2008, but I could only stay for about 30 minutes. To make things worse, most of the wildflowers bloomed out before Prairie Appreciation Day last year because of an abnormally hot April.

My long wait to immerse myself in the prairie ended this year on May 13 though, and thanks to the Black Hills Audubon Society, I made it to the prairie before almost everybody else and before the rain. Most of the day's festivities began at 10 a.m., but the Audubon Society hosted a birding event at 7:30 a.m., giving those who participated early access and an exceptional experience of the preserve.

As I walked with the other birders, I reacquainted myself with the prairie in a whole new way. With the wildflowers in full bloom this year, the morning sun glistened off fields of wet camas, blue-eyed Mary, and golden and harsh paintbrushes. Years of restoration work, which still continues, showed in the colorful, lively landscape.

In the middle of this sea of flowers and Mima Mounds, birds sang, chattered, buzzed overhead, and landed on the informational signs set up for the public. I had never birded the prairie before, and the group of birders helped me identify three species I would not have confirmed on my own. Two (the willow flycatcher and the western wood peewee) proved quite difficult to distinguish without great expertise, and the third (an orange-crowned warbler) was only identified by its song, which I wouldn't have known by myself.

All told, the birders received three hours of good birding before the rains came at 10:30 a.m. As the majority of people were just arriving, we walked out having seen more than 40 species. Personally, I added eight new species to my 2017 total, and I left with a special feeling of having seen the prairie again after a long absence and before most everyone else this year.

My 2017 Prairie Appreciation Day proved that the early birder gets the good weather and a memorable experience even if it means waiting nine years.

A Whole New Light

Now, you don't see it; now, you do.

Our physical environment heavily influences what things we see and how we see them. My experiences at the Billy Frank Jr. Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge demonstrate this fact well.

The most recent of my trips to the refuge possessed a much different character than the previous two (the second of which I blogged about two years ago). Back on my first trip in 1994, rain dominated experience, and in 2015, a thick fog enclosed the refuge. As a result, my family and I had limited visibility both times, drawing our focus to things close at hand. When my mom and I returned four days ago, clear skies, sun, and miles of scenery treated us to many new sights and experiences.

Out in the open, in the context of the Nisqually Valley and the extended Puget Sound, the refuge and the recent work to restore it took on even greater significance. It truly represented the meeting place of mountain and marine ecosystems--the destination of the Nisqually River, which begins at Mount Rainier. In that light, the work to remove the dykes that had dominated and reshaped the estuary for a century meant so much more. Seeing the sun shine on the larger natural processes working freely once again at the refuge proved quite satisfying.

Besides highlighting the larger importance of the refuge, the clear day revealed sights and things I've never seen before. For the first time, I saw the Tacoma Narrows Bridge from that vantage point. I also documented my first sighting of a peregrine falcon--a bird I was drawn to as a child and waited years to see in the wild.

American wigeon at the Billy Frank Jr.
Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge.

The final revelation offered by the sunny day at the refuge involved ducks. As an amateur bird-watcher, I have experienced difficulty committing ducks to memory. For some reason, other than mallards and wood ducks, they all seem to slip into one general image in my mind. I think one reason for this difficulty is that unlike songbirds, I am not around ducks all the time. However, because of the open scenery and the many ducks at the refuge last week, I was able to identify and become familiar with four species, including the American wigeon, the green-winged teal, the common goldeneye, and the bufflehead. I can say that they are more than just ducks to me now. I can see them for the individual species they are.

When the light changes, even familiar places give us more to see.

At Play in the Mud

Going back rarely takes us forward except at the Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge in Washington state.

I first went to the refuge in 1994. A lot has happened there since then, but one thing that hadn't happened until recently was my return. Seeing the product of the recent restoration work at the refuge made the wait worth it though.

In 2009, work began to remove a dike that had kept Puget Sound away from the land for more than 100 years. When the restoration was announced, I became excited. The dike had turned the area from an estuary to farmland. Its removal invited the sound back to continue the natural processes that had been blocked for so long.

Because the refuge is visible from Interstate 5, the sound's progress over the last five years continued to interest me. Whenever I drove by, I would sneak a look at the expanding mud flats. The sight of them (or the high tide over them) always made me smile. All that estuary mud represented a return to a time before human intervention and a return of nature.

Two weeks ago, I decided it was time I returned as well. My mom and I visited the refuge and spent several hours walking the trails. We saw bald eagles, great blue herons, a seal, and, because of the low tide, lots and lots of mud. It was awesome. Through the teamwork of people and nature, the refuge had seen an amazing transformation from what it had been on my first trip there. This was no stick-in-the-mud story; it was progress toward a better relationship between the human managers of the land and the refuge itself.

One of the signs along the walking path talked about all that was going on in the estuary's mud, including the lives of creatures that call it home. I'd say that's just the beginning of the story.

The Olympic Experience

They see more than they're seen.

The Olympic Mountains of Washington state hide out in the rain and fog of the contiguous United States' northwestern corner. They're often overshadowed by their cousins to the east, the Cascades, which boast the volcanoes like Mt. Rainier and Mt. St. Helens. However, the Olympics have views of the Pacific Ocean, Puget Sound, several temperate rain forests, and most of western Washington, so getting to know them may be one of the quintessential Pacific Northwest experiences.

Now, more people can appreciate this unique range because Crest Pictures, a film-production enterprise from Robert and Kathy Chrestensen, has released Out of the Mist, a documentary about how four people experience the Olympics. Check out the trailer below:

"Out of the Mist - Olympic Wilderness Stories" Trailer from Crest Pictures on Vimeo.

For more information about the film and how to see it, click here.

Inside the mist, you'll find a place of incomparable beauty and surprising power.

Sounding the Call for Birders

As the fall migration for birds begins, bird-watchers are on the move as well.

Birding festivals, like the Puget Sound Bird Fest in Edmonds, Washington, take advantage of migration season to give birders maximum exposure to the birds moving south for winter. This year's Puget Sound Bird Fest is September 6-8.

The festival includes presentations on birds, bird-watching, photography, and native plants. It also features guided walks and activities for children, and it's a chance to see both migratory and non-migratory birds. For more information about the event, click here.

Fall means the last call to see certain bird species for a while, so get out there, and wish them a safe journey.

Beach Meet

For those who are lucky enough to live near it, Puget Sound provides a great place to learn about nature.

This summer, the South Sound Estuary Association is giving people who live around or will be visiting Puget Sound the chance to learn about the sound from trained guides. At various "Meet Us on the Beach" events, beach naturalists will be available to answer questions about the sound and the species that live there.

The events have already begun and will run through August 28. For more information on the schedule of events, click here.

Sound of Summer

Summer isn't my favorite season, but it does open up many chances to experience nature and attend environment-related events.

If you're a western Washington native or will be visiting the Puget Sound region this summer, you might want to check out the happenings at the Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge, which borders the sound.

This summer, lots of events are taking place at the refuge. There is a summer lecture series that runs through August 24 and a catalog of weekend nature programs through September 24. The topics for the lectures and programs vary greatly and include birding, photography, grizzly bears, and earthquakes. Events are free, but the refuge has an entrance fee of $3 per four adults. Such fees are important to keeping parks and refuges going, and their importance has only grown with cuts in tax revenue and funding.

For additional information about the refuge's operations, go to the United States Fish and Wildlife Service's site.

If you attend one of the summer events, don't forget to get a few looks at Puget Sound while you're there and be sure to also check in on the work that has recently been done at the refuge. In 2009, dikes surrounding much of the area were removed to allow the natural estuary to reclaim what had been lost when the land was converted for farming in the late 19th century. For more information on the project to restore the Nisqually Delta, click here.