birding

Harlequin romance

/ Tracy Abell / 7 Comments

As much as I adore birds and watch them every chance I get, my identification skills are lacking. That’s why I especially appreciate whenever I spot the fanciest duck seen on the water around here. With markings like these, it’s easy to proclaim, “That’s a Harlequin Duck!”

Olympic Discovery Trail. November 18, 2025

While you can’t tell from this angle, Mr. Handsome was tucked up next to the bank and hard to see. I only noticed him while moving around in order to photograph a perching gull through a tangle of branches. I immediately shifted my focus.

Hello, beautiful! I’m in love.

Balm for the soul

/ Tracy Abell / 13 Comments

This morning during a short walk on the Discovery Trail where I haven’t been for weeks due to a foot issue that may or may not be a mind-body issue, we  were gifted with all sorts of beauty. In the order in which those gifts presented themselves:

Black-tailed deer

Immature Snow Goose

Belted Kingfisher

Mount Baker

Black-tailed Deer

Horned Grebe

Glaucous-winged Gull and crab

Same gull pauses to make clear guests are not welcome at crab feast

After taking many photos of this delightful gull, we turned around and headed back to the trailhead. I was pleased to see the Belted Kingfisher was still in the tree and a bit further on, spotted this wild bouquet:

Thank you for taking the walk with me. May these glimpses of beauty be balm for your soul during these very hard days.

The joy is mine

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

All gratitude to Zippy who, after I had to cancel my run yesterday due to bad air, figured out this morning that while the air near our home was unhealthy, it was clean down near the water! As I ran along the trail, breathing in cool smoke-free air, I saw multiple Great Blue Herons, gulls, mergansers, geese, hawks, some little brown jobbies, and lots of slugs. My mood improved dramatically!

Because I don’t run with a camera, I don’t have photos to post. However, I’ve still got tons of Sandhill Crane photos I’ve never shared and this one sums up the joy I felt this morning while running free.

Monte Vista National Wildlife Refuge. March 11, 2024

The fascists aren’t gonna take my joy. Please don’t let them take yours, either. In fact, I’d love to hear what’s made your heart soar recently. Let’s spread some joy!

Wordful Wednesday: travel edition

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

Common Merganser in Umatilla River. Echo, Oregon. March 7, 2025

On our drive from Colorado to Washington, our second night’s stay was at a campground in Echo, Oregon. We arrived in the dark so it wasn’t until morning that I realized we were next to the Umatilla River. There was lots of bird song and movement, and I first grabbed the binoculars then the camera. The above photo was the first I took. I also saw a Belted Kingfisher, Greater Yellowlegs, California Scrub Jay, Mallards, Dark-eyed Juncos, and Eurasian-collared Doves. Zippy had to gently remind me that we had a full day’s drive ahead of us and so should leave.

I reluctantly said goodbye to everyone and everything there, thanking them for the gift of their presence. Echo was a lovely place to begin the day.

Friday Haiku

/ Tracy Abell / 1 Comment

look closely
who-who do you see
one great horned owl

Bear Creek Greenbelt Park. February 28, 2025

Thank you, Amy Law, for showing me the owl nest. While we didn’t see American Dippers, it was still a lovely walk and talk.

Sunday Confessional: dance drought

/ Tracy Abell / 13 Comments

The past year was incredibly difficult on a personal and global level and, unfortunately, it continues into this new year. I’ve unintentionally dropped many good habits–running, hoop dancing, posting here–as a result of the grief and sheer exhaustion of bearing witness to the suffering of so many. Today, however, I finally summoned the energy to do something I’ve dearly missed: hoop-dancing. For twenty minutes, I danced and spun in my hoop, singing along with the music. Emma was happy to see my dancing again and we howled together for several minutes, me grinning as her tail wagged and wagged.

A dancing Sandhill Crane at Monte Vista National Wildlife Refuge. March 12, 2024

Today I reclaimed my joy. My intention is to dance again tomorrow . . . and to continue dancing in the days and months to come.  Dance as a revolutionary act!

Coming in for a landing

/ Tracy Abell / 8 Comments

I’ve been losing myself in revisions of my middle grade novel–grateful for the distraction from this brutal reality–and am close to being finished.

Sandhill Crane at Monte Vista National Wildlife Refuge. March 12, 2024

While I’m still a day or two away from being done, I believe in celebrating every step along the way. So, today I celebrate myself and this project as I prepare for the final landing. Yay!

A story in three acts

/ Tracy Abell / 18 Comments

The other day, I went outside to sit with my camera. Just in case something interesting presented itself. I focused on the zinnias that are finally blooming from the seeds I planted months ago.

Right after taking that photo, the camera still held to my eye, something interesting happened.

A Broad-tailed Hummingbird flew into the frame! Fortunately, the camera speed was fairly high and, four images later, I captured this which was the best of the bunch:

In that brief span of time, all felt right with me and the world. Thank you, little Miss Hummingbird, for the gift of your presence.

Thankful Thursday: trailrunning

/ Tracy Abell / 22 Comments

Just over three weeks ago, I took a pretty hard fall while running on the trails in the open space. I’ll spare you the image of my left knee that I texted to my sons after limping home (an image that prompted Wildebeest to reply, “Ewwwww. Mother I am squeamish”), and will only say that the last bits of scabbing came off two days ago (to which everyone reading is probably thinking, “Ewwwww, Tracy. We’re squeamish!”) The point is, my knee is healed and while I’d already resumed running on the streets, I was very nervous about trail running again.

I got up at six this morning knowing I needed to run early in order to beat the heat, and checked in with my intuition: run on the trails or run on the streets? Trails. Okay, then. In an attempt to feel slightly more protected, I put on leggings despite temperatures already in the 60s.

Not gonna lie: it’s always scary to run on those rocky trails after a fall and today was no different. It was hard to fully relax and I had to intentionally push images of tripping and falling out of my mind. I talked myself through the run (“You are strong. You are resilient. You are mindful. Feet on the ground, feet on the ground, feet on the ground,”) and tried very hard to be in the moment. Whenever my brain jumped to catastrophe, I reminded it to “be in this moment, with these steps.” [Note: I’m sharing these details to document the experience for myself, but also in case this approach might be helpful for anyone dealing with a trauma.]

I wasn’t alone out in the open space. A large dark butterfly flew right in front of me, bringing a grin. Birds sang (lots of Spotted Towhees with their sweet sweet teeeeea) and when I paused to stretch at the top of the slog, I heard the liquid song of a Western Meadowlark.

Not a great photo but this was my very first Western Meadowlark sighting of the year at Lake Hasty on 4.3.24

While I avoided a particularly rocky segment of the trail, I knew it was imperative I run past where I’d fallen. As I got closer to the scene of the fall, all sorts of feelings and tightness showed up in my body, and I paused to allow myself to feel all of that. As I had immediately after the initial fall, I visualized my left foot hitting the rock in the trail and then rewrote the story in my mind. Instead of slamming into the hard ground, I slid into what was essentially a slip-n-slide of banana pudding (yep, that’s what my brain came up with that day). Both initially and today, I allowed my body to feel that frictionless sensation and then visualized myself laughing as I wiped pudding from my face and hands, and licked it from my fingers. I went through that exercise several times. It’s a somatic experiencing trick I learned from my therapist, and I highly recommend this for releasing trauma from your system. It works. As I walked home from the initial fall, my knee hurt but my body was already more relaxed. And over the next week, whenever the image of falling popped into my head, I reverted to my banana pudding rewrite. Pretty soon, I stopped having “flashbacks.”

Today I’m very grateful that I was able to run on my beloved trails again. I’m grateful I remained upright and I’m grateful for the tools I have to help me recover. I know from past experience that today’s run didn’t fully liberate me from my trauma and that I’ll be tentative for a bit, but facing my fear will go a long way toward getting me back to where I want to be. And where I want to be is out running on the trails. 🙂

Twofer Tuesday: house wren edition

/ Tracy Abell / 14 Comments

Earlier, I was feeling loads of anxiety about the state of the world and planet, and so wisely went outside to sit below the deck for a hit of nature. The lamb’s ear are abuzz with bees and a painted lady butterfly landed on the plant closest to me. A swallowtail butterfly floated past. Various birds sang and then went silent for a while. As I petted Emma who was curled up on the bench next to me, a house wren began singing again. I aimed my camera into the light to capture the songster.

Didn’t catch the wren mid-note, but they were singing their little heart out.

And then I became aware of another wren, this one making the churring sound. That bird was a little farther down the fence.

I took a few more photos, grinning as the first wren continued the melodious song while this one stuck to its churring call. I lowered the camera then squinted, wondering if I was seeing things. No, I wasn’t imagining it!Two wrens, side-by-side. Two fluffy wrens. The baby wrens that’d been very vocal on Saturday as their parents worked tirelessly to feed them. The baby wrens that’d left the nest on Sunday, leaving Zippy and me to wonder where they’d gone. Just minutes before they showed up on the fence, I’d asked him whether young wrens stick around or head to a whole new area on their own. Zippy said he didn’t know.

But now we do know: they stick around!For a while, at least. To learn their calls and songs, and to practice flying.

 

 

When magpies sound the alarm, heed their calls

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

This morning as I did my daily “bed stretches,” it finally registered in my brain that the magpies were being unusually loud and persistent outside my window. I got up and looked out.

A fox!

I ran to the other end of the house to grab the camera from the dining room table, updating Zippy on the way. When we got back to the window, the magpies were still chastising the fox and I started taking photos through our screen. Unfortunately, the shutter clicks disturbed the fox (s/he turned to look directly at me), so I stopped.

But I texted my neighbor to let him know he had a visitor. He quietly stepped out onto his deck and the fox ran for the back fence where it leapt up onto the same section where a bobcat had sat nearly two years ago, and then disappeared on the other side. A beautiful gift from the universe! And a very, very nice way to begin the day.

Note to self: when you hear incessant magpie calls, investigate!

Bird balm for the soul

/ Tracy Abell / 10 Comments

This afternoon Zippy and I went to Belmar Park for an infusion of nature, and it was just what we needed. The Double-crested Cormorants were nesting and their grunting, pig-like sounds cracked me up.

I also enjoyed the Canada Geese and after downloading my pics was pleasantly surprised to discover this photo also includes an array of sunning Painted turtles.

We also saw a whole lot of Barn Swallows flying above the water, catching insects. A couple times we startled at whirring sounds as they flew inches from our heads. Here’s one taking a break.

Later, I saw this Tree Swallow perched in a tree. Always a thrill when swallows (or any bird, for that matter!) sit still long enough for identification and a decent photo.

There were other sightings (Red-winged Blackbirds, American Robins, Common Grackles), but I’m losing steam so will close with this fellow:

Although I had no idea what I was seeing, Zippy informed me this is a Greater White-fronted Goose. I was particularly taken by the orange feet and legs which is quite a dapper look. However, when Zippy walked past the second time there was some hissing.

But no biting, so all was well. No harm, no fowl!