Tim McNulty’s Ascendance

With rare exceptions, I seldom know when I bought a book that I’ve finally picked up to read. Surprisingly, I remember when and why I purchased Tim McNulty’s Ascendence.  I bought it in February 2023  because an environmental group I belong to was promoting him as a guide for a trip on the Olympic Peninsula.  I prefer to explore the Olympics on my own and have been doing so for nearly 60 years, but I was surprised that I had never heard of McNulty and wondered what he had to say about an area I love.  

I identified with many of his poems particularly those where he describes his daughter Caitlin’s experiences in the woods.  One of my fondest memories is my first backpacking trip with my kids in Olympic National Park. Dawn insisted I was trying to kill her when we got to a crossing point too late, and the high tide made it difficult to cross; she wasn’t any happier when we had to climb a ridge using a rope to pull us up one side and lower us slowly on the other side.  Tyson just plain didn’t want to carry his own sleeping bag, so I ended up with it on the top of my pack, hitting me in the head every other step.  Still, neither complained when the deer wandered into our camp the next morning to say hello and when we saw a pod of Orcas just off the shore. Those kinds of experiences bind you forever.

I thought about quoting one of those poems here because I did like them so much, but decided that “Varied Thrush Calling in Autumn”resonated even more deeply.  McNulty is reacting to a painting by Morris Graves, as he points out in “Notes to the Poems”.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to find a link to that particular painting anywhere on the net, though there are a lot of Morris’s bird paintings online.  McNulty points out that it was painted at the outbreak of World War II, just before Morris’s internment as a conscientious objector.   

The poem reminded me a lot of Thomas Hardy’s “The Darkling Thrush,” which was written in 1900, just as Europe was moving towards World War I. As I’ve mentioned before, this poem made me change my college major from Physics to English.

The Varied Thrush happens to be one of my favorite birds, one that spends Summer high in the Cascades or the Olympics —and, hopefully, Winter in my backyard searching for insects in the leaves I’ve piled up for it.

“VARIED THRUSH CALLING IN AUTUMN” 

It may not be entirely relevant in this poem. Still, anyone familiar with the Varied Thrush would know that its brilliant orange-and black-plumage would contrast with the “dark-washed” browns in the landscape almost as much as its brilliant song contrasts with the natural silence of the wilderness.  

For me, the poem, like the drawing that inspired it, captures a moment of beauty in a world that is definitely not always so, never more so than in a time of war, whether it be World War II or the Vietnam War.  

Luckily, such opportunities to discover beauty are not limited to times of war; they are available to anyone willing to venture forth in Nature, not just in Spring when Nature is at its loveliest, but even in late Fall when it’s so cold that even the birds begin to retreat to the lowlands.

The poem shows that small moments in the natural world can stabilize us, deepen us, and remind us how to endure tension without despairing.

Finding Snipes: A Birdwatcher’s Journey

My last trip to Theler Wetlands in Belfair turned out to be a bit of a disappointment because the tide was so far out that whatever birds were around were too far away to get any pictures. Ironically, on this visit, the tide was so high that the mudflats were entirely covered with water.

So, as it turned out, virtually all the birds we saw were those patrolling the Union River like this Ring-billed Gull

A seagull in flight over a blurred natural background.

and an immature Ring-Billed Gull (I think) that seemed to be travelling with it.

A bird in flight against a blue sky with clouds.

One of the highlights of the day was watching this small flotilla of Common Mergansers feeding at a bend in the river.

Several ducks swimming in a body of water with rippling reflections, surrounded by green grass.

Unfortunately, they were a long way away and the sun wasn’t totally cooperating, so I had a hard time getting decent shots. This shot of an immature male (on the left) and two females was my favorite.

Three ducks swimming in a wetland area, with green grass in the background.

I would have entirely missed the highlight of the day if Leslie hadn’t seen this Snipe with her binoculars. I’ll have to admit that I never could see it with my bare eyes; I could only see it with my 800mm lens. Even then, this shot has been heavily cropped.

A solitary bird standing in shallow water among reeds, with its reflection visible in the water.

Snipes hold a special place in my heart because it took nearly five years for me to see a Snipe after I started seriously birding. Even at 70 years of age I began to wonder if that old ploy to send a youngster on a “snipe hunt” wasn’t true.

Thankfully, Luck — and a lot of persistence —generally rewards us with the results we’re looking for.

Wildlife Photography at Ridgefield Refuge

Although I was quite pleased to see all the Sandhill Cranes when we visited the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge, I was disappointed that the main fields hadn’t been flooded and there were few ducks and not shorebirds anywhere in sight. In fact, it was remarkably similar to our recent visit to the Sacrament NWR.

Leslie spent a lot of time trying to get a shot of this Red-Tailed Hawk, but the leaves made it difficult to get it in focus, and the bright light behind it made it underexposed.

A young hawk perched on a leafy branch against a blue sky with clouds.

I’m sure that I spent more time trying to salvage the shot than Leslie spent taking it, but I was happy with the final result.

This shot of a common Song Sparrow was much easier to get.

A brown bird perched on a branch, surrounded by a soft-focus background with silhouettes of flying birds.

Like the Song Sparrow, the Great Blue Heron seemed more than willing to pose for us.

A Great Blue Heron standing in tall grass at the Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge.

Leslie managed to get a shot of a Northern Harrier once it landed.

A Red-Tailed Hawk camouflaged among tall grasses, showcasing its distinctive coloration in a natural habitat.

Unfortunately, I missed what would likely have been my favorite shot of the day, a Kestrel sitting on a fence post, because I was so focused on a small flock of Sandy Hill Cranes on the other side of the road.

On a good day, Ridgefield NWR is a great place to bird; on an off day, like the day we were there, it can still be rewarding if you take the time to explore a little deeper what is there everyday and not just passing through.

Discovering Sandhill Cranes at Ridgefield NWR

While in Santa Rosa, I saw several posts on Facebook showing Sandhill Cranes at Ridgefield NWR and hoped to stop there and get some pictures of my own. Unfortunately, the rain that descended on us in Santa Rosa and kept us from visiting Bodega Bay got to Ridgefield before we could.

I wasn’t too upset, though, because I knew I had a dental appointment a few days later and thought I could get pictures then. When I read the weather report the day before my appointment, I couldn’t decide if it was even worth taking a camera since there was a 70% chance of rain. I decided to take it anyway and hope that the rain would start after we had been there.

Luckily, it was just overcast when we arrived, and the first thing we saw was a small flock of Sandhill Cranes near the entrance:

A Sandhill Crane standing in a grassy area, with a focus on its distinctive features including its gray and brown plumage and red crown.

They were quite far away, but I managed to get two fairly good shots, and I was particularly fond of this one

A Sandhill Crane in flight, showcasing its wings in a natural environment.

which showed those huge wings from a perspective that I don’t remember ever seeing before.

We ended up seeing several small flocks of Sandhill Cranes on the auto tour,

A small flock of Sandhill Cranes foraging in a grassy field, with several birds pecking at the ground.

most of them at a distance, but we got much closer just as we finished the auto tour.

Two Sandhill Cranes standing in a grassy field, one facing the camera while the other is turned away.

I’ll have to admit that it’s always a thrill to see Sandhill Cranes, a bird I didn’t even know existing until I was almost 70 years old.