Sometimes This Job Is For The Birds

July 16, 2010

Once a year, for about six hours, I find myself up in the Cascade Mountains anchored to a folding lawn chair. I leave town by 5am and get into position by 6am. With binoculars, clip board, data sheet, and coffee by my side, I wait patiently for my guests to arrive. It starts out pretty chilly as I settle down and try to get comfortable on the slopes of a rocky creek bank. I know as the sun climbs the eastern sky, I’ll be peeling off some layers of clothes to get comfortable. The tranquil melody of crystal clear water running hastily over river rocks on its way to the Pacific Ocean quenches my thirsty soul. To be here is a break from the routine day at work where complaints from the public are the norm and leaving the office at the end of the day feels like one too many cups of espresso. Actually, this annual assignment reminds me why I got into this line of work…

As a child growing up in Hawaii, I spent many memorable hours in Nuuanu Stream. It was a weekly tradition to visit grandparents and have big family dinners every Sunday. We would usually go early enough to spend some quality time in the stream behind the house. There were several ash-handled scoop nets hanging on a nail in the outside storage closet. They waited patiently for my return each week. “Swoosh, drip, drip, drip” was a familiar noise as the net was plunged quickly in the water and brought out with a sweeping motion. You might lift it to find flopping swordtails, rainbow guppies, mosquito fish, tadpoles, or occasionally some crayfish. Of course, one or two collections might find their way sailing at my sister Maile. Hearing the scream it produced was always worth it. After cleaning up and eating dinner, I would sit on the living room floor and watch the weekly TV episode of Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. Pursuing and catching all those wild critters sure seemed exciting to me.

Listening to the creek below me now brings back those memories each year as I sit and wait for band-tailed pigeons to arrive. These counts are conducted by other westside Oregon district wildlife biologists. Today, my first guests that arrive are a pair of black-tailed deer interested in the mineral spring. They are extremely nervous and can’t seem to keep their heads down for more than a few seconds as they drink from the spring. They eventually leave the spring and make way for the pigeons that have been arriving in small groups and landing in large fir trees overlooking the spring. They too are a nervous bunch but, eventually make it down for a drink. This scenario repeats itself throughout the morning.

Before I know it, noon is upon me and it’s time to fold up my chair and head down the mountain. I know there will be a bunch of voicemails and emails waiting for me upon my return to the office. I might complain a little but, then I have to realize that sometimes this job is for the birds.

Black-tailed deer visiting the mineral spring

Not just another day  in the office

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