The Virginia Rail Part Two

    OK.  I didn't actually meet Col. Frank Slade on a muddy trail in Ridgefield.  But there is a rumor that Charlie Simms graduated from Harvard, made a quick killing in the stock market and is now retired to one of those luxury condominiums in Easst Vancouver.  His condo, so they say, is perched on the ridge at 192nd, where he not only has a drop-dead view of the Columbia River, but of Gresham Oregon, where his mother and step dad (who never liked Charlie very much) pushed corn nuts in their convenience store. 

     Its not clear what happened to the step father, but Charlie's mom, or so it is rumored, can be seen driving her Tesla along Rodeo Drive.

     Sandra and I are retired to a pedestrian condo hard by the 205 bridge over the Columbia.  The one Pete Buttigieg wanted to put a toll on.  One small reason for us Vancouverites to celebrate the current regime...there will be no bridge toll as long as the Epstein files occupy the mind of our fearless leader.  86 205, that's what I say.

     Yesterday was Sunday and Sandra and I were left with a decision. It is just about the same gas guzzling distance from our humble abode to our church in Camas and the Ridgefield NWR. What with our ecclesiastical friends on the road to far flung family reunions, it was an easy choice to skip the wine and bit of bread and take communion with the critters St Francis spoke with on the trail above Assisi.  

     So around 9 AM we found ourselves entering the refuge.  Sunday is apparently free and there was a docent sitting on the tiny porch of the ranger hut. The first thing I noted was that someone else had seen the Virginia Rail.  The docent, who was a pleasant country fork sort of middle aged lady,  noted that the white board had been wiped clean that morning, so these were fresh observations.  And someone else, they had used a different color of magic marker, had registered the Black Phoebe.  The same observer had noted Soras near the yellowhead, which is to say in the cattails.   The sora, a small dark rail, is just as furtive as the Virginia Rail. 

A Black Phoebe pair.  

    I asked about little white, orange spotted butterflies and she was interested but thought it was too early for butterflies.   So we were on our own.  Not an uncommon position for a butterfly hunter.

    We found a few yellowheads in the cattail marsh, but no Soras.  I might have been insufficiently patient.  We did not see the teal or canvasbacks that were present earlier in the week and soon we were at the parking area for the blind.  On the trail, we dallied by the stinging nettles and were rewarded with a single painted lady, who landed on the edge of the trail long enough for both of us to get a good look.  

    Out at the blind, we got a definitive look at the Black Phoebe.  While this species has a special place in my heart, this observation is really significant regarding climate change.  In 1970 the northern boundary for the range was around Redding, so a couple hundred miles north of Okland, where I saw them flycatching over Jewell Lake.  Since then, I had seen this bird as far south as Ecuador and I associated it with a southern range.

      The first iNaturalist record for Black Phoebe in SW Washington was in 2008 and it was a recognized summer resident by 2010.  Until a few days ago, I was unaware of any of this, so Sandra and I took a good long look at this pair as they foraged over the pond.  Watching them gave me warm neo-tropical vibe.  

   While we watched, a phoebe caught a large bug, maybe a yellowjacket and sat on a branch about thirty feet away, apparently contemplating what to do with his prize. 

A dutiful parent bringing home the bacon

   Tiring of all these phoebes, I took up a position on the edge of the blind.  there was a couple of 40 ish photographers hogging the blind, so I got a good position on the steps with a good view of the patch of marsh where we had seen the rail a few days before.  We waited for only a few minutes when I saw some motion and out he came.  Sandra also had a good position and we watched this rare bird step out in the shallow water, robing this way and that.  We were only fifty feet away at the most and this seemed to go on forever, although it was in reality only two or three minutes.  the sun was shining and we got some excellent looks.  

    As I said in the previous blog, the Virginia Rail is common but it spends its life in hiding.  Perhaps I need to get out more or maybe I just need to thank my lucky stars.

     The drive back to headquarters was fairly unremarkable.   Once there, we spoke with the docent and she encouraged us to post our Painted Lady.  Most significantly, between the time we arrived and this exit, someone had posted on the Virginia Rail: breeding pair with chicks, 2+2.  Well, isn't that enticing?  Certainly, birds raising a clutch are more active, foraging and feeding their chicks. 

    So stay tuned, there may be a Virginaia Rail part three in our future.

jeff