Persistence pays off

January 25, 2024

After another night on the couch, I wake up feeling measurably better than I did yesterday. The cough is still here, the chest pain is still here, but both are improved. It’s a particularly good sign that it’s not really painful to cough any more. And with me out of the bed Rachael got a good night’s sleep herself and is in good spirits. It helps having a known plan of action, once the initial shock has worn off.

And about that plan: we’ve mostly figured out how to handle the drive north. We’re in luck and can stay at our Airbnb for an additional three nights, which covers us through the night after the extraction. Beyond that, we’ve cancelled our three night booking in Borrego Springs and four nights in Morro Bay. Our three night stay in Solvang was non-cancellable, but we were able to change the dates for it without penalty. So here’s the plan:

Now thru 1/30: In Tucson
1/31-2/03: TBD, waiting for input from the dentist on how soon Rachael can travel.
2/04-2/06: Solvang
2/07-08: TBD, but just driving home, stopping over wherever is most convenient.
2/09-22: in Portland

So that’s all that’s known on that front at the moment. For today we’re both going out on our bikes, independently and at our own pace. Rachael envisions an easy ride up Treat Street for some lazy biking along the Rillito Wash: but being Rachael, she still puts in 45 miles. We’ll wait for the morning to see if she’s overdone it.

My own plan is to bike out to El Rio and back - a 42 mile ride with some birding thrown in, which from the way I’m feeling seems like it should be fine. It doesn’t work out that way though, because seven miles into the ride I pull off at Silverbell Lake for another shot at finding a night heron. What is this - the sixth or seventh ride that I set off with this as a goal and returned empty handed?

Today though, my persistence finally pays off. I see him feeding along the edge of the lake, stealthily stalking the shoreline in typical night heron fashion - slowly advancing by lifting one leg at a time, intermittently stopping and looking or listening for a moment before quickly dipping his beak to the ground or water. Today he comes up with a real mouthful, a small fish that disappears down his bulging throat almost as soon as it’s been snatched up.

So that’s fantastic, of course. The day is barely even started and already made. I continue on with the circuit of the small lake though to see what else might be around. There are the usual delights - cormorants, redheads, canvasbacks, and that same lone snow goose still hanging out with the domestics. But there are two other things to gladden the heart, beyond the beauty of the day and place: a close up view of a pair of rough winged swallows, a bird I’ve been seeing regularly but alway fleetingly as they zip back and forth across the lake. This is the first in a long time that I’ve come across one perched instead of in flight.

Northern rough-winged swallow. They have such tiny feet! It looks like he’s been skewered on that limb.

And then, looking across the water I see a largish bird flying low across it. He heads into a tree lining the opposite shore, and then all but disappears. It’s the night heron. I like this, because I’m not really clear on where they hang out when they’re not on the prowl for a meal. This might help me spot them more regularly in the future by giving me another place to look.

When I make it back to that side of the lake again I head for the vicinity of his tree, and knowing that he’s up there it doesn’t take me long to spot him. I give him plenty of space as I scout around for a spot where I can get a decent look through the thicket of branches surrounding him, but he’s not concerned. I’m sure he feels secure and well-hidden in there.

He’s in there. Easy, if you know what you’re looking for. He almost looks like a huge wasp nest.

I’ll bet I’m at Silverbell Lake a solid hour by the time I finally leave and start north on the Loop again. Unless I want to risk making us late for the dinner we have planned (a very bad idea), there’s not really time enough now to make it out to El Rio and back. Instead, I turn east when I come to Rillito Wash and head home that way, making it virtually an exact repeat of yesterday’s ride. No new birds, but I do pick up enough variety to make my 30 for the day, my new standard for a decent day here. And I find a small colony of round tailed ground squirrels, the first of the year. They hibernate for a couple of months in the winter, and this is just about the normal time they wake up again.

Brewer’s blackbird, one of a flock of about a hundred at Rillito Park.

Abert’s towhee. Amazing that just a year ago I thought this was an unusual sighting. I see one or more virtually every day I’m out now.

Round tailed ground squirrels are definitely cuter than rock squirrels.

I’m back home in plenty of time for dinner, so I evade the doghouse again. It’s Rachael’s choice tonight, as in fact it is every night until her extraction, after which she’ll be on a yummy soft food diet for several days (she’s already making a list, and is happy to see that pistachio pudding is available at the store). Tonight we’re off to Locale again, where Rachael has tortelli di zucca and imagines she’s back in Northern Italy while I order the grilled tuna and think of Sicily. We both come away happy.

Today's ride: 24 miles (39 km)
Total: 1,391 miles (2,239 km)

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