A Day for Poop

Calm flat water and two Canada geese await me on the big lake. Soft high overcast lets the winter Cascades show, the forests a blue gray beneath the snow line. I surprise nine goldeneyes and they fly off in front of me. They whistle when the fly, something like a bufflehead only much louder.

There are four mature bald eagles on the east shore of Union Bay. They are paired off and seem to be tolerant of each other. Maybe both the north and south nests are in use. They are, however, using different perches than last winter. They seem to be avoiding many of the previous favorites. Two prefer a boathouse peak, which is clear due to the amount of eagle poop running down the shingles. The ducks have been pressed up into the north end of the bay, probably by the eagles, and it takes a bit of paddling before I even see one. The widgeons are whistling, nonstop, as always. In the NE lagoon, I find a scat pile from a beaver. This is rare, they usually go in the water. It is obvious what it is since it looks just like thumb sized balls of chipboard, a high fiber diet. I find a good front paw print and make a plaster cast of it.

I take out at the east end of the crossing over place and walk home, content in my thoughts and filtering out the sounds of the city so that I only here the light rain tapping on the trees.