July 26th - Spotties to Shorebirds

Somewhere, Jefferson County

Breakfast time

I'd fallen asleep to Spotted Owls, and I woke up to them as well. Around 4:30 A.M., I got a few more calls. I peeled the tent "door" back and looked out at the gibbous moon. Get back to sleep? I considered it, but to be fair, I had (number redacted) miles to get back to my car, and (number redacted) miles to drive to get back to civilization. And more shorebirds were waiting for me. I knew it. 

So, I did get up, enjoyed the brisk air (stars were out now), and eventually heard the start of the morning chorus - Olive-sided Flycatcher, American Robin, Varied Thrush (yay!), and Western Tanager were the prominent members of the chorus.

I did the slowest possible packing. In part to enjoy the sights and sounds. In part because walking back to my car in light sounded just peachy. I also wanted to do a better packing job than I'd done on the way up. So packing, breakfast (interesting... I brought no bowl for my oatmeal...), and I started back to the car. Very early on, I heard this: 

THIS has been a hoot. I originally had this as an American Goshawk. And that's a pretty exciting bird to find in Jefferson County. It's a code 4 bird, and not at all a bad fit for the pristine habitat I was in. I could think of no real confusion species and had really stepped through all of the birds I could imagine in this habitat. None had calls like this. For comparison, listen to call 3 here on Cornell's site.

Then I saw a post on Facebook in an Olympic National Park group - a picture of a bird on the ground on a remote trail. Marbled Murrelet! My eyes went wide and I went right to the Cornell site again. 

This is my current guess on the identity of these birds. They are ones that I've seen this year, so it doesn't add anything to my list. But this may be the coolest thing I've come across. Marbled Murrelets are seabirds. Little penguinny things. And for the longest time, they didn't know where they were nesting. 1974 was the year when the first nest was discovered. They use old-growth trees, much as Spotted Owls do, nesting in remote areas, rather than in large colonies like nearly every other similar seabird. 

I'd heard that one could listen to these birds in some areas in the morning as the birds head out to sea, but I made no plans to stumble into the right places this year. Or I'm wrong, and it's an American Goshawk. lol. It's a win-win. Feel free to shoot me your thoughts if you give the recording a listen and have some expertise.

I did things, I went places, and found myself eventually back in Port Townsend, looking for. . . 

Shorebirds!

My first stop was Kah Tai Lagoon. I had seen reports of shorebirds and was a little confused. I couldn't figure out where there might be mud! But on arrival, I found out that the mud was all along the shore of the lagoon, right next to the walking path. Outside of some stretches where trees blocked the view, this was the perfect arrangement. 

Least and Western Sandpipers, as I'd seen everywhere, and finally some dowitchers!

On fresh water, the default is Long-billed Dowitcher, although I've come across Short-billed away from salt water. They're a pain to tell apart, honestly, but I have at least one where I feel good about calling it a Long-billed: 

Straight bill, low loral angle (basically the dark line from the bill goes more directly
to the eye, rather than curving sharply up), more black than white on the little bit of 
tail feathers showing, no pale chin, and bars on the side of the breast, rather
than spots. All of these are subject to variation, and can be affected
by a bad angle, bad lighting, etc!

The calls are very different from each other, but no calls were given here. They just sat with bills under wings, and occasionally did some energetic poking into the mud. 178 for the year!

One last stop - Oak Bay County Park. My feet were a bit sore, so I didn't do the full tromp out to the shorebirds, but from the closest point on the gravel, I did find one more bird for the year: 

So far away! But close enough for an easy identification. 

Semipalmated Plovers had been popping up on my alerts, but almost all from the Pacific Coast. They were on my radar for my trip, as they come through a fairly wide area in migration. 179!

And home. I was exhausted and sore, and had a good bit of work to do, including this blog, when I returned. 

July 25th - Shorebirds to Spotties

My last post recorded my efforts from a day in late June. Nearly a month ago, and I just now got it posted! That very day was also the day that a pretty large writing project began for me. It's on the tail end now, and I was able to breathe enough to get out of town. The backpacking trip I'd planned in June could finally happen a month later. 

"Didn't you already make a trip to (destination redacted)?" my daughter asked as I drove her to work that morning. I had cancelled these plans in June because the weather had not cooperated. And I always do let her know where I'm headed, "so that they know where to send the search team". I didn't always do that, but my late father always insisted that it was foolish not to let people know where you're going. 

Spotted Owl Sightings -
blurred to large areas on eBird 

So. . . yes. I did tell one person where I was going to look for Spotted Owls. This is a "you don't talk about fight club" situation, but I think my daughter is unlikely to go on a hunt for them. 

The Northern Spotted Owl is an endangered species in our state. It has been here for as long as people can remember, but the numbers have dropped drastically in the last century. Harvesting of the old-growth trees that support their ecosystems, and the invasion of Barred Owls from the east coast have led to this decline. It's a bit of a mess, and people are doing what they can. 

Part of this has included "thinning" of Barred Owl populations near nest sites. Barred Owls outcompete Spotties in most habitat and have even been hybridizing with Spotted Owls. Another piece of it is careful monitoring of nest sites, including ones that have not been used in years. And another important piece is the first rule about fight club - you don't talk about fight club!

Not sharing information about nest sites of endangered species is implied in the code of birding ethics. And. . . I know. If that information is never shared, how does anyone know where they are? But of course, without the rule, the Birding Tour Bus would be rolling up for pictures, (my daughter called them "The Spotparazzi". . . this makes me smile.) and possibly using calls and playback to catch a glimpse of them. Ebird sums this up by saying of limited species that they are hidden to avoid "targeted disturbance of nests, roosts, or individual birds from birdwatchers or photographers." 

But with some research and breadcrumb hunting, I felt like I had a good guess at a spot where they might be hanging around, and hopefully hooting. And I figured, hey, if I'm wrong, I'm going on a beautiful backpacking trip. Nothing to lose, and one of the benefits of birding with a sense of humor, I suppose. It's perhaps one of the most important things that separates hell-bent from gung ho!

Shorebirds - the getting-there edition

My needs alerts were pretty well lit up with shorebirds for Jefferson and Kitsap Counties. On the upside, there are all of these opportunities to find new birds for the year. On the downside, I always feel like an idiot looking at shorebirds. If a person is diligent, studies the field marks, and gets out in the field a lot with shorebirds, it gets *easier* but never easy. 

My plan was to get up to Peninsula no Peninsula and investigate Foulweather Bluff, and maybe Point no Point. But on my way, I stopped at a very familiar spot - Sinclair Inlet at Gorst. This spot has been pretty productive for me over the course of the year. I knew there were extensive mudflats at times, so why not? I had seen nearly no eBird reports from the spot, so I wasn't sure what to expect. 

The first stop was the upper viewing spot off of the highway. No shorebirds could be seen from here, but I did get some nice views of some dumpy Band-tailed Pigeons. 

Meandering though the labyrinth of cars and construction, I got to the parking area, and walked down for a closer view of the mudflats. Bingo!

Least Sandpiper - yellow legs, delicate bill, just kinda brown on top, and white below!
The most common tiny shorebird in these parts

Western Sandpipers - Front and Right. Black legs, longer down-turned bills, more lightly colored overall, with bits of orange (or as birders call it, "rufous") especially in lines on 
the back - making a bit of a V of orange on some pipers in the right view.
Slightly bigger than Least, but not always easy to tell. Bills vary quite a bit too!

 

Shorebird quiz!
And if you're relying on me to learn about shorebirds... oh dear.

Least and Western Sandpipers - species 135 and 136 for my Kitsap year list. Oddly enough, they were also life birds for me in the county. Clearly, I'd just never been here during shorebird season! I spent a lot of time on some of them, slowly remembering what a Baird's Sandpiper does not look like. I feel like I don't fully remember this information until I see my first Baird's of the fall. Then they stick out like sore thumbs! But until then, it's squinting and head-scratching.

Quite likely a Woodland Skipper! Only recently grouped with the butterflies.
Skippers used to have their own superfamily alongside moths and butterflies 
in Lepidopterae. First one I've really seen, bringing my butterfly 
life list to .... lol probably less than ten still.

As I squinted and scratched, I added another bird - Red Crossbill (137). A dozen of them zipped from tree to tree during most of my stay, always out of sight, but giving off distinctive, flat "chip chip chip"s. Once I felt like I'd seen what there was to see, I thought it over. Did I really need to head all the way up to Foulweather? Or should I just move on to Jefferson County for more shorebirding? The latter plan won out. I packed up my optics, got in the car, and made a beeline for Oak Bay. 

Yes - and a Greater Yellowlegs

Oak Bay County Park

Fun stop! I first looked over the pile of gulls that roosts on the little bar in the lagoon. Caspian Terns and California Gulls. "Darn. Guess I'll get a Ring-billed Gull eventually though." I told the gull in the stream below me. 

The gull nodded in understanding.

I nodded. 

The gull's eyes went wide. 

I went for my camera. 

It flew. 

So, no pictures of that mega-rare Ring-billed Gull (176 for the year - as I switch to the Jefferson County list), but I'll get them. I'll get them. . . \

Gulls and Terns

On to the shorebirds. I found a path leading out towards the north end of the park. I followed it and got to a stream separating it from the rest of the gravel/mud. I stared at it, looking for the shallowest part. Nope. The narrowest part. Nope, but only because I couldn't imagine any reasonable effort at a long jump whilst carrying my scope and camera. I found a piece of driftwood and tried placing it halfway across the narrowest part of the small stream. Perfect! Then it floated away.

In retrospect, I can imagine my boots waving from the car, watching all of these efforts and just trying to get my attention. I did eventually come to the ohyeahboots realization, put them on, and explored the farther reaches of the park. A Lesser Yellowlegs was not a new bird for me, but it was still a nice surprise. There were plenty of Least and Western Sandpipers to pick through as well. 

And folks, I'm bad at shorebirds. To be fair, shorebirds are also bad at being identified. As with any inconveniences in life, one always hopes that the true culprits are making efforts to reduce their impact. I'm not convinced that shorebirds are 100 percent behind this effort. But in amongst the obviouslyleast sandpipers, and obviouslywestern sandpipers was this chonky bird. 

CHONK!

And I've been fooled before, so I should know better. Some "Least" Sandpipers apparently put on a lot of weight. This one seemed big enough in my head, and had a well-defined breast, so I really considered that it might be a Pectoral Sandpiper. 

A lesson in chonkometry.
I'd been told that this was not a Pectoral Sandpiper. I agree. 
One reason: "A Pectoral Sandpiper is twice as big as a Least"
This Least is closer....and it's got to turn full sideways to equal
the chonkiness of the bird behind it. 

I've stepped away from that idea. The field mark pointed out to me was the dark ear spot on the bird, which is something that Least Sandpipers have, but Pectoral Sandpipers do not. So, that aside, can we stop and appreciate the efforts this bird has made to make sure it has the energy to get back to wintering grounds? It may not have the strength to fly now, but its heart was in the right place!

The back bird has an ear spot, and not a well-defined light eyebrow. 
So. . . not a Pectoral. 
But, please. . . can we take a moment to appreciate the mass of this bird. 
Late July, so it can't even use the excuse of "it was cold! My feathers were fluffed!"
Red beans and rice did not miss this bird. 
I defend my statement: Shorebirds are very bad at being identified :D

Fort Flagler

I took the road up to Flagler, stopping in the Nordland Store for the first time. Folks, stop at the Nordland Store. To be fair, I was feeling frugal on this trip, so I only grabbed the things I needed - a pair of large water bottles to supplement what I already had for my backpacking. But the shelves had so many products from local farmers, wineries, jammeries, honey..eries? Lots of locals. I'll be back!

I've had Elevated Ice Cream in Port Townsend - thumbs up. 
Fiddlehead is vegan. I don't eat ice cream without meat, so 
I'll have to have Kevin review them eventually

The park itself was not productive bird-wise. Two Greater Yellowlegs, some distant gulls, and a few flyby Rhinoceros Auklets. I got another good walk in, at any rate!

Unfortunately not countable - but vegan alternatives to some popular cereals

Then...

I went backpacking on the Olympic Peninsula, in Jefferson County. There was a lot of driving, or not much and a lot of walking, or not much. I ate at some point. I set up a tent. I'd love to add more details, but that's gotta be it, I suppose. Because fight club. 

But sometime around 9 PM, I heard a Barred Owl. "Who cooks for you?" Bummer, but not completely unexpected. About 15 minutes later, I heard a Spotted Owl. Slightly higher pitched than a Barred, and honestly sounding like Christopher Walken briefly possessed a Barred Owl. "Who. . . cooks for. . . you??" On a slightly higher pitch. 

177!

The moon from a place

No pics, no efforts to get closer to the bird, to shine a spotlight on it, to call it in or use playback. Just sitting under an overcast sky in a fresh change of clothes and smiling. I tried to get recordings, but I can barely make out owl sounds in the recordings I got. I ebirded the evening as "Jefferson County", so I think it's all been flagged, and the report isn't even publicly visible as a marker for any of those birds. So, I think I've left this free of breadcrumbs. I even cautioned breadcrumb distributors, ("Hey! You left some breadcrumbs here!") so with any luck I've done better than breadcrumb neutral. Those may still be sitting around, but maybe they've been picked up. Anything past neutral is out of my hands.

With any luck, this is set up for any bad actors, any members of the Spotparazzi, to just get lost in the woods (not a bad end, from my experience). There will certainly still be the slow leak of information out there in the years to come. From the members of fight club - to people that seem trusty - to people who really seem like they'd enjoy the birds - to friends. 

If none of that information leaks from me to you, it's honestly not because I don't trust you, that I don't think you'd enjoy the birds, or that we're not outstanding friends. Just. . . as soon as you're telling some people and not others, (rather than everyone or nobody), it takes on such a strange feel. I'm actually one of those people that thinks everyone has good intentions, so it really isn't personal.

Actually - lies. I did tell: The Department of Fish and Wildlife; and my kids, again so that they'd know where to look for the body if I didn't return. :D 

June 26th - Not the Hike I'd Planned

Sunrise over Hood Canal

As summer had come into full swing, I started itching to get up into the Olympics. For Jefferson County, there were three or four different hikes that all held some temptations for me. On this particular day, I had originally planned to do a little backpacking trip, but wind and sprinkles made me think better of it. If the end goal is owling, why let the wind get involved? 

Leland Lake

Leland Lake

At sunrise, I was near Shelton, making my way up Hood Canal. The first destination was Leland Lake. I'd seen reports for two species of interest, Bullock's Oriole and Western Bluebird. They both seemed off, or perhaps seemed okay if there was a broader area that had been surveyed for that report. You don't find out by not looking, though! And both species would be a nice surprise for the year. 

I pulled up on the road that enters from the south end and took a look at the clearcut immediately to the north. It has a Western Bluebird look to it, although it's not a lot of continuous space, and is right next to a freeway! Nothing seemed to be flying in that space, so I just enjoyed the other typical birds in the morning chorus: Black-headed Grosbeak, Warbling Vireo, and (throughout the morning) Willow Flycatchers. 

This road curves up and around to the west side of the lake, and then along the south edge of it. I drove this slowly, pulling over now and then if I suspected something sounded a little oriolical. Once I hit the parking lot for the fishing pier, my early departure started to hit me, and I just pulled in, windows down, for a little nap. As I drifted off, I listened to each bird call, picking up nothing new for the year. As soon as I woke up, I listened, and heard what sounded like a single Evening Grosbeak (173 for the year!) flying overhead. This is one that I'd normally expect to find more often, but it's a code 3 in Jefferson County - seen annually but a little difficult to find. 

From here, I drove around the lake and started up Snow Creek Road. This took me to some clearcuts, where I enjoyed Olive-sided Flycatchers and House Wrens singing loudly. Again, I could imagine bluebirds here, but I heard and saw no signs of them. 

Quilbillies

I stopped in at Quilbillies and had the best veggie hash I've ever had at a restaurant. 

The trick? They're getting their veggies from Midori Farm, thirty seconds up the road. I asked the waitress about it, and she told me, "It's amazing, and honestly, I hadn't heard of half of the vegetables that go into it." Squash, beets, and greens - just delicious. They do change it as the available produce changes, so this is worth a stop *any* time in summer. 

I'd been told as I first came in that a particular seat was reserved. As I worked on breakfast and checked emails for work, the couple arrived. The waitress stepped out and gave assistance spending a few minutes lending an arm to help the couple inside. This just tracks. Every time I've been into Quilbillies, they've been so friendly, and it surprises me not at all to see them giving this kind of treatment to some regulars. You see the "honored guest" section on a menu in some restaurants and wonder what it really means to MegaRestaurantCo. Here, there was no confusion. 

Boulton Farms

No owls here!

It was too late in the day to check the fields for Barn Owls, but I thought the barn here could be worth checking. I pulled up and saw a couple of the farm workers loading up a truck for the start of their work day. I asked about the owls, and if they had been nesting in the barn. They let me check, although from the sounds of it, the Barn Owl - regularly heard in evening hours a little farther north on this road - did not seem to be using the barn, relying perhaps on a copse of trees for nesting instead. I stepped in and checked, and thanked them for the information. Nice folks!

North Beach

My target here was simple - a Rock Wren that had been seen on the beach. Just like... a simple 3-mile beach hike, timed with the tides! After the hike, my plan was to check several beaches in the county in hopes of finding a Black-legged Kittiwake that had been bopping around from spot to spot. 

OH.

Black-legged Kittiwake (174)

This little guy decided to save me some trouble, and just appeared at the beach where I was about to set off on my hike. I'll say honestly, at the start of the year, I carried around some stress about actually being able to recognize this species. One that I'd only seen once before, when someone pointed one out in a scope from a billion miles away. But one landed in King County in early June on Vashon Island. I'd gone out to see it and had been texting Kevin Black about it. 

I can't remember at all what he was telling me. Something something field marks. The blah blahs are longer/shorter/darker than a blah blah gull. He really tries, but sometimes it's just pouring into a full glass of water. 

"I will not remember this."

"Look... it just looks like a Pokemon."

Yahtzee. And it's hard to say exactly why Kevin is right about this, but I agree completely. 

Quite happy, I started my hike. It was actually a good amount of time before low tide, but things were already very walkable. I had no idea that this beach went so long! One of those where you can make out your end goal, and it just always seems a little closer... but still far away. 

There were actually some good tide-pooling spots as the water continued to recede, exposing more and more of the shore. 

Aggregate anemone

? :) Already beyond my ken. Kelpweed Lettuce is what I'd call it in an effort to cover all bases.

The rocks always grab my attention too. I love finding ones with widely different colors and composition. 

A geological and botanical celebration of pride, I suppose

Several people walked the shore very meticulously scanning the ground. I finally gave in and asked one of these people after about two miles. It turns out that this beach is actually quite famous in glass-hunting circles. If I'd even started to look for those little treasures, I may never have made it out to McCurdy Point!

But I did, and this little guy didn't disappoint: 

Rock Wren! 175 species for the year.

From there, three miles back on the beach, and a decision to call it a day! I did try for a Least Flycatcher in Kitsap on the trip home but came up empty. 

June 16th - Father's Day trip to East Jefferson

Shorter post on this one, and barely any pictures! But I did hope to document a nice day in Jefferson. The kids had given me carte blanche for the day, and I'd come up with this itinerary: 

Uncas Road (to chase a rare Red-eyed Vireo); Port Townsend (to walk the town, especially the art installment at Kah Tai Lagoon); Finnriver Cider in Chimacum (cider, dinner, live music). The camera often stayed in the car. It wasn't the... focus... for the day. :D This joke was brought to you by Dad™. 

It was nice to head over the Tacoma Narrows, and hear my daughter say what I've thought so many times, "That's a pretty bridge."

It was nice to hear my son sigh contentedly, gazing out at the water as we crossed over the Hood Canal Floating Bridge. I also marked off a square on my bingo sheet. 

See, because I'm a poor father, I thought it would be "fun" for the three of us to secretly make bingo sheets with boxes containing actions we knew another person would do. I had gotten in a deep hole early in the day. I drummed along on the steering wheel to one of the first songs we heard on the radio. "Got you." My daughter marked off a square. I shook my head and chuckled, and she marked off another one. "Chuckling? You can't just have chuckling!!" "Arguing. That's three. Thanks, Dad."

It really sucks when your kids become smarter than you. I just wish I'd known when exactly it happened.

But I was certain that my son would be looking out at expanses of water, and he'd let out a contented sigh at some point in the day. He lets the beauty around him affect him. I like that. As he wraps up a composition major, some of his final projects are pieces of music tied to locations, such as forests and harbors. I love that.

Uncas Road

I was here to chase down a Red-eyed Vireo. And to be clear, I don't generally chase birds, but this was more of a serendipitous chase. And from the sounds of it, this would be an easy bird. Red-eyed Vireos are fairly rare on the Olympic Peninsula. In Jefferson County, they are a code 4 bird. This means they're not seen annually but have some pattern of occurrence worth noting - 5 or more sightings. I've found a few of these birds this year (such as the Rock Sandpiper at Fort Flagler in January) and missed others (such as the Sandhill Crane at Short's Family Farm in the spring). 

Any of them that I find are just a fine stroke of luck. As noted in the Running Tally and Needs list over on the right side of this page -----> Finding 200 species this year is going to require more than a few of these fine strokes of luck. I'll need to catch at least 4 or 5 more of them this year to really have a chance. Thankfully, there are some real crackerjack birders in Jefferson County, so quite a few good birds have been turned up. 

This one was at 922 Uncas Road.

Now hold on. I would never do that. Please understand that this address is the address of a personal home, but ALSO is the parking area for a trail that I'd not heard of before somehow - the Pacific Northwest Trail. Everyone knows all about the North to South trails - the Pacific Crest Trail and the Appalachian Trail. But a trail running from the Continental Divide in Glacier National Park to Cape Alava on the Pacific Coast? I don't know. It's spoken of *less* frequently, apparently enough so that I'd not heard of it!

So, what kind of person puts up with a major trail running through their driveway? I got to find out in spades. As we pulled up, we were first greeted by two signs in front of parking spots. "welcome" and "parking". My son had taken care of sandwiches for the trip. He and I stepped out to munch away, while my daughter ate inside the car. Allergic reactions to insect bites can do that to you. 

The homeowner was out nearly immediately. He saw the binoculars and the camera and knew why I was there. "John was here this morning." he told me, assuming I would know who "John" was. I totally know who John is. Never met, but I know *of* John. Jefferson County is kind of that way. The gentleman talked to my son and I about the PNT, telling us also about the Trail Angels, a group that helps in delivering provisions from point to point so that they are ready and waiting for through hikers (among many other helpful, angelic acts). 

"Oh! There it is! It sounds like a robin, but just a little more interesting..." 

I listened to a Black-headed Grosbeak sing and agreed with the description. A conversation about this started but was sidetracked by a Barn Swallow swooping past us and up into an eave. 

As we sat and watched the Barn swallow babies chattering away at their diligent parent, the song of a Red-eyed Vireo entered the conversation. It's a lovely song. Both Cassin's and Red-eyed Vireos give a "preacher bird"-cadenced song. "But did the lord" pause "abandon them" pause "in their hour of need?" pause "No he did not!". This is not by any stretch of the imagination an attempt to capture the phonetics of the songs. Songs have cadence, pitch, phonetics and quality. "Preacher bird" is only there to capture the cadence.

I got on the bird making the calls and found a Red-eyed Vireo. (170 for the year in Jefferson). 

It sat on the treetop and sang for quite a while. This was by far the best view I'd had of the species - one that usually hides high in the canopy of trees. 

But bird aside, this was an absolute treat. Getting to hear about the trail, and getting to hear about it from ... I don't know how to adequately describe the man. He's the kind of person who is not only excited to see strangers descend on his home but is ready to do anything he can to help them. I think the bird is still there, but honestly, just go out to experience some goodness. 

The kiddos on the short trail at Uncas Road

Pit Stop

I just needed the facilities at Anderson Lake State Park. But I found a Willow Flycatcher (171). We get so proud of ourselves at times, as birders. Driving along the road and deciding that you're driving past MacGillivray's Warbler habitat. You hear one singing along the roadside and feel like a genius. A bird whisperer, in all likelihood. But sometimes there's just good birds. I accepted the universe's offer of a new year bird. Nothing clever was done here. 

Port Townsend

The first shop we stopped at was Celtic Crossroads. The kids do try to enjoy their Irish heritage. I found a full display with dozens of hats from Hanna's Hats - a company in Ireland that my folks had visited during a trip to Ireland. They had brought a hat for me that my son has now stolen, and a penny whistle that my daughter has similarly claimed. For this visit, they just each grabbed little things with our family name on them. On Father's Day, I suppose there's something to it - the name can be traced back through dads all the way back. 

Also, curious stuff. Kind of a relic of the patriarchal history of humankind. I feel like hyphenation had come in to try to address some of that, although in a few hundred years, doing that to preserve all family names could lead to some breathtakingly long names. Conventions aside, it was a nice opportunity to remember Dad. 

Continuing farther into town, we got ourselves some ice crem at Elevated Ice Cream, and then stumbled upon a Steampunk Festival in full swing - The Brass Screw Consortium. Interesting to read that this is one of "only three Victorian seaports on the National Registry." My time in the county is so often so bird-focused. I'm glad I got to see some of the wackiness of Port Townsend on this slower trip.

Just a few blocks further from there, and we'd made it to Point Hudson. Good timing for me, as there was a nice roost of gulls out on a spit. Here I found my first (and certainly not my last) Heermann's Gulls of the year (172). I've been spending years in counties that don't get these. I mean. . . yes, I live in King County, but getting out to Discovery Park from Renton is not a chore I regularly complete! So it had actually been several years since I'd last seen a Heermann's. And given that, the plumage differences caught me flat-footed! But yes. . . the really dark gulls are also Heermann's Gulls, Tim. Take a deep breath. lol.

Finnriver Cider

The Cascadians were in to play some jazz. There was a special Father's Day sampler - "Big bold flavors for Dads". Again, I won't tie myself in knots unpacking that, but it was a nice sampler. Add to that, I'd joined the cider club and got a free sampler of six ciders. Thankfully, I had my son there to help! That, and some grilled pizza, and fresh shucked Aphrodite oysters, and my two little hearts that walk outside of my body added up to a lovely finish to the day.