Category: Birds

Do you think a young Lesser Yellowlegs is upset when it discovers it’s been forever labeled Lesser because it’s a mere four inches shorter than its nearest relative the Greater Yellowlegs?

Would it comfort a young male to know that despite being labeled “Lesser,� he’s bigger than his near relatives the Spotted Sandpiper or the Sanderling, though uninitiated birders like myself, never having heard of a Sanderling, may well confuse him with the more common Sandpiper? Maybe it should just be happy it’s not called the Least Sandpiper.

If she’s female, do you suppose she resents being named after her legs instead of her lovely feathery dress or her slender figure?

If it happens to read my weblog, would this Lesser Yellowlegs resent being labeled Lesser Yellowlegs if it turns out that it’s really just a short Greater Yellowlegs with an unusually dark and short beak?

If your nickname was Lesser Yellowlegs would you prefer to be known to the world by your formal name, Tringa Flavipes? Naw, neither would I.

Perhaps you’ve noticed that I’ve enjoyed playing around with heron shots since I started visiting the Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge. The more I worked with pictures of herons the more I understood why they are such powerful symbols in the Chinese and the Japanese literary tradition.

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that there are a magnificent bird not easily spooked, perfectly content to stand poised while you take picture after picture. For instance, this picture, like the ones I took of the Great Egret, is really two shots merged together only made possible by the heron’s stance:

I’ve taken enough good pictures of Great Blue Herons that I think I’ve begun to overlook other potential shots in pursuit of a more unusual shot of other birds.

Two recent incidents suggested to me that perhaps I’ve become too complacent and that I should work harder to get even better shots of these magnificent birds.

The first incident took place a couple of weeks ago when I saw this magnificent heron in the distance, one whose plumage was quite different than the ones I’ve observed closer to the refuge:

This week while walking I met and talked with Chris Yetter who’s been taking heron pictures for over a year. When I went to his web site, I knew that I had sold myself short in my efforts to get the best possible heron shots.

During the six weeks I’ve been walking the Nisqually Refuge I’ve caught glimpses of a large ghost-like bird mixed in with a flock of Canadian Geese.

Friday I finally got some decent shots of it. In fact, I was greeted at the beginning of the trail by proof that there was, in fact, a white goose mixed in with the flock:

When I mentioned the sighting to a fellow refuge visitor, I learned the legend of a domestic goose that had flown the coop years ago to join a passing band of migratory Canadian geese.

Some would argue that it was a goosish thing to do. Why would anyone turn down a steady meal for such a vagabondish life? After all, Thanksgiving was just around the corner, and who would want to miss such a joyous holiday? There was even the possibility of becoming the well-known Christmas goose, famous since Dickensian time.

After many years, such foolishness has been all but forgotten, though, and visitors to the refuge hold the goose in high regard, watching for its return each year, telling anyone who will listen the story of the goose who wouldn’t. It has become something more than mere goose, a legend in its own time:

I’ll readily admit I’m one of those stay-at-homes who never willingly left the nest, but even I find myself admiring this goose who wouldn’t live by man’s rules and insists on living its life free as the winds carrying it North and South. Someday I’ll be as free.