Category: Washington Coast

It’s a good thing I got so many photographs I liked during our California trip because the weather has been marginal since we returned, so bad last week that I could not get out for even a short birding/photography expedition. My exercise for the week was limited to working out at the YMCA. If this continues, my blog entries may soon go “live” again.

For now, at least, I continue to live in the past. These shots were taken February 23, the day I went to Ocean Shores to take pictures of the Snowy Owls. As I noted then, I wasn’t content to drive that far just to see even as rare a bird as the Snowy Owl. I ended us spending nearly 16 hours at the beach, driving from Ocean Shores to Tokeland then home, covering 260 miles for the day.

I especially wanted to go to Westport to check on the loons, the one place I consistently see them close enough to shore to get good photographs. It didn’t take long to spot this one, he was floating at the foot of the dock.

Still, when I get this close I’m amazed at how large they are, 32 inches long with a 46” wingspan.

As I sat there photographing the bird, I was amazed to see it’s leg pop out at what seemed like a weird angle to me as it stretched and preened.

That leg led me to The Loon Preservation Community, where I found: “The placement of a loon’s legs at the far back of the body means that loons can not easily walk on land. This difficulty is one reason why a loon’s nest is built right next to the water.”

I was disappointed that they weren’t in breeding colors, but this one that I spotted further out in the harbor was beginning to change colors.

By now I’m sure there would be some birds in full breeding colors. If the weather breaks, I’ll try to get back soon.

I also managed to get a “first” this trip, no, not the Snowy Owls, I’ve seen them before in the distance, but I’ve never seen this strange bird before. I was actually trying to photograph the Pelagic Cormorant on the left, but the bird on the right suddenly emerged from under the water.

I’ll have to admit that I’m not entirely sure what it is, though it’s size relative to the cormorant and it’s colors suggest it’s a Common Murre.

If it is, it must have it’s head tucked down because all the online pictures of a Common Murre show a longer neck. It also looks a little like a Short-Billed Murre, but my best guess is still a Common Murre.

My favorite bird of the trip, though, turned out to be Western Grebes,

which must have been my “bird of the year” since I got great shots of them at Malheur with chicks and then later in New Mexico. The best shots of them this trip, though, came at the next stop on my beach trip, Tokeland.

In retrospect, I wonder if my last post on snow geese reminded me I hadn’t yet seen the snowy owls despite the fact that they have been around for over a month and have received constant coverage in the news. Of course, it might also have been the fact that we’ve had a lot of rain and I hadn’t been out birding once this week.

For whatever reason, when I saw that yesterday was going to be the one sunny day at Ocean Shores this week I decided to get up at six o’clock and head out to the beach. As usual, the weather forecast was slightly off. I got there just as a squall hit and waited fifteen minutes before heading out. As it turned out, though, it was a beautiful day.

There’s nothing like a sunny day at the beach and a 4 1/2 mile long walk.

Although I knew the snowy owls were most likely on the west side of the peninsula, I took the longer route along the harbor side. I knew there’d be a lot fewer people because it’s a much harder walk and experience has shown I’m more likely to see wildlife on the sheltered side of the Peninsula.

The large number of shells found on this side of the peninsula

seem to attract shorebirds like this Sanderling in winter plumage.

I’m not sure what attracts the loons, but I do know this is one of the few places I see them regularly. This one seemed to want to show that it’s molting into its breeding colors.

I was pretty tired by the time I reached the point and was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to see the owls. I might have missed these three owls, but it would have been nearly impossible to miss the crowd that had come to see them.

I must admit that I felt a sudden surge of joy when I saw five snowy owls. The last time I photographed them they were hundreds of yards away. As should have been expected, all the owls were trying to sleep, since that’s what owls do in the daytime.

After I’d snapped the first fifty shots to make sure I had at least one with the proper focus and exposure, all within five minutes, I began to wish one of the owls would actually do something. Luckily, tales of photographers harassing them into flight insured that I wasn’t going to get close enough to make them fly off. I figured that that’s the last thing they need being thousands of miles from home.

Still, I got pretty excited when this one decided to move three steps down the log,

and later yawned, or at least appeared to yawn.

That was one of the last shots I took before my ADD tendencies kicked in and I was off to the day’s next adventures, in many ways more rewarding than the one that started the day.

Since it was an early tide last Wednesday, I had lots of time to bird other than just Bottle Beach. Despite considerable walking, though, I didn’t end up seeing very much. I even went to Tokeland twice because someone said there were curlews to be seen. By the time I got back, the gulls seemed to have displaced them.

So I was especially pleased when i say a pair of Red-Necked Phalaropes, though not in breeding colors, at Midway Beach. They weren’t shy and the bright sun insured that I got some of the best shots I’ve ever gotten of them.

When I first got there, the pair were swimming rapidly, apparently hunting insects. This is the way I’ve always seen them before.

I was pleasantly surprised when they started wading through the reeds, something I’d not seen before.

As a photographer, I’m as interested in the setting as I am in the subject itself and I thought the reeds provided and interesting background, nearly as interesting as the reflections in this shot:

In fact, I suspect that with a background like that I might even be tempted to go all Photoshopy and make the background as important as the Phalarope itself,

which it is, of course, because habitat is increasingly critical for all wildlife.

Although it’s not unusual for a particular species like the Godwits or a flock of Red Knots to stand out when I go birding at the coast during migration, it’s the experience itself that brings me back, not the photographs of a particular bird I might get. Although it was a thrill getting a full-frame shot of a Western Sandpiper the first time,

after you’ve gotten some great closeups it seems impossible to get a better shot, though different sunlight conditions do offer different opportunities.

Truthfully, though, I seldom take my 500 mm lens and tripod to the beach any more. Instead, I hand carry my 400mm lens so I can enjoy the total experience more.

I love the feeling of being immersed in the migration, love seeing a Black-Bellied Plover in full-breeding colors scurrying across the surf,

a small flock of Dowitcher’s landing feet in front of me.

After an hour of trying to photograph a hectic feeding frenzy, there’s even something strangely appealing about seeing a mixed flock of Dowitchers and Western Sandpipers, briefly sleeping off a mid-morning snack a few feet from me,

discovering as you leave that even the way out is blocked by peeps feeding as far as the eye can see. I find myself belonging in ways I seldom do elsewhere.