The wisdom of the birds

November 23, 2023

As I was just saying the other day, birds are so smart! When the weather doesn’t suit them, they just move on! Rather birdbrained ourselves, we think this is really right-brained thinking; and as unusually fine as Portland’s weather has been this month we’re both ready to move on. We’ve still got nearly a week left on our AirBnB booking here to be spent down, but once that’s done we’ll definitely be out of here, the essentials crammed into the Raven and heading south. For those that care to join us, here’s the plan for Team Anderson’s winter migration this year:

11/29: Crescent City
11/30: 2 nights in Jenner, just north of Point Reyes
12/02: 3 nights in Half Moon Bay
12/05: 5 nights in San Luis Obispo
12/10: 4 nights in Stovepipe Wells, Death Valley
12/14: 3 nights in Boulder City, NV
12:17: 6 weeks in Tucson

We can hardly wait! In the meantime though we’re lucky that Portland’s streak of fine days is holding on. Today Rachael’s off to Leif Erikson Drive again for another long hike, keeping up her streak - for six days straight she’s put in between 12 and 13 miles. She’s taken to thinking of it as her version of walking the Camino.

To me, this looks like the perfect day to drive out to Sauvie Island to see if the sandhill cranes and snow geese have settled in to their winter quarters yet. And I’m feeling slightly guilty about it, because I’m throwing Rodriguez in the back with the idea that I’ll park somewhere on the north end of the island and do my exploration in the best way, by bike. I feel guilty because I know it’s a self-indulgence and not actually a very smart idea. Two days ago I finally got out on the bike for an easy ride, and was disappointed to wake up the next morning to find that my nearly gone cough had worsened. It’s better again this morning, but a smarter or more disciplined guy would probably give it another day or two still.

When I get to the island, I make a stop at the small park at the historical Bybee-Howell House. There aren’t too many new birds I can still hope to see around Portland at this time of the year, but the nuthatches and brown creepers are possibilities here. Not this time, but I do get a nice look at some jays, juncos, a flicker, and about twenty golden-crowned sparrows. Also, I notice that it’s quite windy and chilly out.

A California scrub jay. So what - they come north for the winter?

Back in the Raven, I drive north to the end of the pavement on Sauvie Island Road, taking the spur out to the end of Lucy Reeder Road along the way. I drive slowly keeping my eye out for anything unusual, which is fine because there’s almost no one else on the road today. I have mixed feelings though, because for as beautiful as it all is I know how much different and better it would be if I wasn’t walled off in this steel box.

As I go though, I pick up some nice additions to the day’s list: a few kestrels, many starlings, a cormorant out on the channel, a few sandhill cranes close enough in for a good look, and a young bald eagle staring down at me from a utility pole and wondering if he needs to move on or not.

The best sighting though is the one that really makes me regret being inside the car - I catch what I’m certain is a red-shouldered hawk, an unusual sighting. In fact I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one in Portland, although I know they’re around. He’s at a spot at a bend in the shoulderless road where I can’t safely stop though, and there’s no reason to think he’d still be there if I parked somewhere and biked back.

An immature bald eagle. He looks hungry.

A sandhill crane, along Lucy Reeder Road. Wouldn’t you like one of these in your front yard too?

I’d like to keep driving north past the end of the pavement, but at this time of year all of the roads like this are closed off to anyone without a hunting permit because it’s a semi-protected wildlife refuge - which means the birds are protected from the voyeurs but not from the killers, I guess. So I turn around and drive back to the spur to the end of the pavement on Oak Island Road, where it’s the same story - as much as I’d love to see Sturgeon Lake this time of year, I can’t go further without a shotgun and a shooter’s permit.

The next stop is the pull-off at Raccoon Point, with its nice path atop the berm with an overlook to Sturgeon Lake. It’s a popular birding spot, but one where you really need a scope to see much of anything because the lake is so far off. And like elsewhere, the path is blocked off for the season in both directions so you can’t walk to get any closer. Pretty spot though.

There are plenty of birds to be seen from Raccoon Point, but not with the tools I’ve brought along.

One thing that my short walk along the berm convinces me of is that it wouldn’t really be that smart for me to get on the bike today. It’s windy and cold enough that there’s a real bite to it and after being out for ten or fifteen minutes I’m pretty happy to be back in my warm, safe steel box again and enjoy listening to a familiar Ahmad Jamal piece on Portland’s excellent all-jazz station as I drive down to the bird lookout on Reeder Road - the last destination on my map for the day, and the spot where I have the best hope of seeing some snow geese. The northeast side of the island seems to be their normal hangout when they’re in town.

And they are in - from the lookout I see in the distance a solid white band in a field, looking like a patch of snow. When I show this photo to Rachael later she immediately has the same whimsical thought I have - maybe that’s where they get their name.

Also there are other birds off in the distance - lots of cranes, Canada geese and their cackling cousins - but nothing too close for a good look, and it’s too chilly out to stand around waiting for long.

As close as I can zoom in from where I’m standing.

Some cranes. Quite a few if you stare hard enough, actually.

Those snow geese are about a quarter mile to the north, so I drive that way to see if I can find a clearing where I can get a closer look. And I do, so I park the car on the narrow shoulder and walk into the grass and stare for about five minutes, taking about a dozen shots of them with as a few random geese fly in to join them. After that though I decide it’s time to call it a day. I’m just back at the car though and actually opening its door when I hear a sound behind my back, turn around, and quickly rush back to the other side again. Unbelievable. Who knows what set them all aloft at the same instant in an immense white cloud so thick that veils the trees behind it? Could it have been merely the click of me opening the car door? Or maybe they were just getting bored and someone decided it was time to spice up the afternoon with a little bird panic.

Enthralled, I watch and listen for the next five minutes as they rise and swirl in a great, dense eddy before starting to resettle into the same spot again. One of the wonderful mysteries of nature.

Further down the road, I’m just a bit closer.

It’s hard to see the trees for the birds. Like an inverted snow globe.

Countless. It’s like the fish in the sea, or the scooters in Saigon - how do they avoid midair collisions?

I’ve seen enough, and more than I’d hoped for. The vision of that goose cloud will stay with me for a long time I’m sure, especially this time because I have a video to refresh my memory. I still remember the cloud arising from the opposite end of Summer Lake in southeast Oregon one winter when I was out there walking with Shasta 25 years ago. They must have been nearly two miles off, but it was their sound that alerted me to them.

So I drive home, mentally cataloguing the different birds I’ve tallied today. Twenty species, including the pintails, mallards, meadowlarks, coots, doves and robins I’ve noticed long the way. Still there’s more to be seen though, and reasons for another pair of quick stops before leaving the island. Even trapped inside a car, Sauvie Island is a pretty special place this time of year.

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Bruce LellmanGreat reporting from Sauvie Island, Scott! Beautiful photos.
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11 months ago

Kelly IniguezI"m happy you have your next journal going already - I was afraid of withdrawal symptoms!
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11 months ago

Scott AndersonTo Bruce LellmanThanks, Bruce. I’m pretty sure you and Andrea must be rueful about being stuck in Saigon about now.
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11 months ago

Bruce LellmanTo Scott AndersonWe escaped the gravitational pull of the huge city of Saigon today. It was insane but also quite interesting riding through alleys in tiny neighborhoods to avoid the largest roads. All the drivers were very considerate. Fascinating city for sure but we are now more in the quiet countryside of the Mekong River Delta.
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11 months ago

marilyn swettAre you planning to drive through Death Valley? We weren't able to drive through the park at the end of September. The road was closed due to flooding causing damage.
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11 months ago

Scott AndersonTo marilyn swettThanks for the heads up. It’s partially reopened, but many of the roads are still closed. The main access roads (190 and Badwater Road) are open though, so we’ll be able to get into and out of the park. It could be a pretty special time to be there, since the roads listed as closed are closed to all motor vehicles, including motorcycles - but are open to hikers and bicycles.
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11 months ago

Jen RahnWhat an experience!

I remember you writing about the Anderson Calendar before, but don't recall the details.

Is it a wall calendar?

Also, Ron and I encountered a wildlife "refuge" in Montana, where the only people who could enter were hunters. I guess I'm naive, because this surprised (and horrified) me.

Seems there could be a more accurate name than 'refuge' if there's a chance of being killed(?)
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11 months ago

Rachael AndersonTo Jen RahnHow right you are!
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11 months ago

Scott AndersonTo Jen RahnIt’s a virtual calendar now, published annually here in a year-end post from favorite photos selected from the passing year. Its a tradition I started a few years after we went vagabond, carrying forward one from the previous ten or fifteen years when we’d have three dead-tree calendars printed up for us - one for home and one to hang on each of our cubicles at work. Somewhere back in our storage unit I’ve still got one from most of those years.

Here’s this year’s calendar, with links back to the previous ones: https://www.cycleblaze.com/journals/winterlude2022/look-both-ways-6e5/
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11 months ago