Watching the birdies ...

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching the great diversity of birds while I’ve lived here in Birch Bay. I’m starting to recognize Mergansers, Harlequins, Canvasbacks; and Mallards are always prevalent, Bald Eagles and Heron, and on and on. I’ve wondered why there isn’t more of a presence of vacationing birdwatchers to this area. Maybe there is and I’m just not in the know.

I am in the know that the annual Wings Over Water is tomorrow, next door in Blaine, WA. It has really expanded since it began eight years ago. It’s quite the family event and holds something of interest for all ages of birdwatchers!

Check it out for yourself!

8th Annual Wings Over Water NW Birding Festival
Saturday, April 17th, 2010

638 Peace Portal Dr., I-5 Exit 276 Blaine, WA

Greet fellow outdoor enthusiasts and view thousands of geese, sea ducks, and raptors that crowd the estuarine habitats ranging from the Canadian border at Blaine to the beaches of Birch Bay State Park. Exhibits of wildlife art, carvings, seminars, and field trips will highlight the one-day festival. For complete details on this festival, visit the following link:

http://www.blainechamber.com/wow

This festival started eight years ago as a forum to highlight the Brant (Branta bernicla nigricans), a small sea goose that is about the size of the common Mallard and stages one of the most spectacular migrations of all waterfowl. The Brant leave their Arctic staging grounds in late fall, they fly non-stop for almost 50 hours to their wintering grounds in Baja, Mexico. Brant perform some of their most important staging in the greater Puget Sound area prior to moving north in the spring. The largest concentrations of Brant in the Puget Sound usually occur between February and May. Peak numbers occur in mid-April, coincidental to the annual spawning season of the Pacific herring.

Brant numbers have been declining in recent decades. This is due in part to the rapid growth of the human population in coastal communities in the Strait of Georgia. This growth causes disturbances to the Brant estuaries, beaches, bays and spits where they feed and rest before their migration north to Arctic breeding grounds.

It used to be a strictly coastal bird in winter, seldom leaving tidal estuaries, where it feeds on eel-grass (Zostera marina) and the seaweed, sea lettuce (Ulva). In recent decades, it has started using agricultural land a short distance inland, feeding extensively on grass and winter-sown cereals. This may be behaviour learnt by following other species of geese. Food resource pressure may also be important in forcing this change, as the world population has risen over tenfold to 400,000-500,000 by the mid 1980s, possibly reaching the carrying capacity of the estuaries.

In the breeding season, it uses low-lying wet coastal tundra for both breeding and feeding. The nest is bowl-shaped, lined with grass and down, in an elevated location, often in a small pond.

I thought it was interesting that this goose possesses a highly developed salt gland that allows them to drink salt water. Since they’re considered a salt-water goose, I suppose having the gland is a no-brainer. I wonder how that capability can be adapted to make salt-water drinkable by humans? OK, so I got off on a tangent.

You can check out more information at the Washington Brant organization
http://www.washingtonbrant.org/

Trust me ... Just close your eyes

My tango instructor told me to close my eyes and just let him lead, and we moved quickly and for the most part gracefully all over the dance floor. As he led us, I realized I had not been allowing the leader to lead, because I could see we “might” bump into other dancers, or I was distracted by how others were dancing, or nervous about where I would have to move next. With my eyes closed, I became more aware of, and moved more intuitively, to the beat of the music, I was aware of the slight changes in the lead’s body to indicate change in direction or a change in step, I could relax and concentrate on the dance step. With my eyes closed I became aware of my dance partner’s breathing and could even feel his breath on my face. It opened the dance experience to a whole different range of senses. It was more intimate, more personal, more enjoyable.

How, you might wonder, does dancing the tango have anything to do with Easter?

My family and relatives are all at a distance and we’re apart for this wonderful spring celebration. I can’t see them and be with them. But I can certainly let my senses remember all aspects of Easters past.

What is the smell of Easter?
The sound of Easter?
The taste of Easter?

My housemate, Colleen, opened pre-packaged cinnamon rolls yesterday and popped them into the oven. I could smell them from my room on the other side of the house. What a sweet aroma, triggering memories of my childhood home where Mom would roll out the dough, sprinkle on the sugar and cinnamon and chunks of apple, roll them up and pop them into the oven; a heavenly, comforting smell. Then she would whip up some frosting from powdered sugar, butter, a little vanilla and a few drops of water. I remember the taste of the love rolled up in each sweet bite.

In my family, we always did a lot of holiday things together. Easter was one of those where Mom would sit down with her noisy brood and we would cut out paper egg shapes and rabbit shapes and flowers, slapping on colorful paints, or glue on glitter, or pinching and twisting brightly colored tissue paper into tulips and daffodils, dipping hardboiled eggs into red, yellow, blue food coloring dyes. There was laughter and the sound of creative activity.

The aroma of the cinnamon rolls brought back that intimacy of a table full of kids--there were 5 of us--noisily creating works of beauty and feeling the bond of family.

The sound of excited family voices, instructions to get ready for Church and not get our new shoes and outfits dirty before we got to Church. The sound of the hymns we sang about Jesus rising up from the dead, the joy of renewal and promise. To others it might have been a cacophony of kids’ and grown-ups’ voices, but they were familiar voices, loving voices.

I remember the squirmy eagerness to be let loose on the yard for the Easter egg hunt, or some years meeting with extended family for Easter dinner or picnic.The many hugs and kisses and catching up with family doings.

Aroma plays a part, too, in the Easter dinner, which was usually baked ham. I re-connected with a smell of “home” and family.

Mom or Dad telling Sandy or Mel or me to set the table. There was the sound of plates and flatware and glasses clinking, the sizzle of the roast ham. People talking and laughing as they worked together.

I tried to carry on these Easter traditions with my own children, and I know that my grandchildren are experiencing all of these same aspects of family working, worshiping, and having fun together.

Yes, I opened my senses and relished anew the aroma and taste of Easter, the feeling of Easter, and the sounds of Easter.

What a blessing.