Coyote

There is a dearth of water-fowl out in the Fill.  The construction halted enough to allow the path to be open (they are expanding the wetland, as part of the mitigation project for the new 520 bridge construction.)  The former parking lot is now a pond after over an inch of rain fell this morning.  They lined the lot with giant plastic sheeting, then covered it with compost, and the water doesn't drain.  (Last week I walked through, on a sunny day, because the barricades had been moved, but got caught by some construction workers who told me I wasn't allowed to be there.)

The highlight of my walk today was a coyote sighting.  My first, I think.  Have encountered them in the desert before, lying awake at night, attempting to sleep on the valley floor (we had tents, but rarely used them), listening with some trepidation as their howls echoed, calling back and forth over the valley, but don't believe I actually saw one (and I crawled into the van and slept on the seat that first night.  On the second night, I slept outside again, between a couple of friends.  Felt safer in a group.)  This one was small, slightly larger than a fox, trotting through a clearing, stopped when I stopped to look at it, and then proceeded into the trees and disappeared.  (Recently, there was a full-grown deer wandering around the U-District.  I missed it because I had taken the day off, but a colleague showed me a picture he'd taken on his phone.  No idea where it came from, possibly walked along the edge of the lake from the Eastside.  Several years ago there was a juvenile bear wandering down along the Puget Sound edge of the city, and more recently a mountain lion in Discovery Park.  We are not far from the mountains, but all the water surrounding access to the city makes large wildlife visits unusual.  I imagine there are quite a few coyotes, lots of food; we have an abundant rodent population.)

Nearer to home, the geese honk their arrival from a distance:  these are not those that quietly slip in and out of a room, but gregarious, always shouting out "hello!" and "goodbye!"  Sometimes flying circular paths over the water to right a return and a new set of greetings set off.

During the night, I heard the arrival of a flock of birds.  I haven't yet been to the lake to see who it was.  The swallows have long left the city, a month?  A month-and-a-half now?  Seems I always meant to write it down, and didn't.  The Gadwalls have returned in small numbers, and every day, I see a small flock of Wood Ducks in the same corner of the lake.  American Coots, Mallards.  A small tan duck that comes over to visit if I stop long enough.  I think someone's former pet, one who likes people.  My favorite duck, the black one, has been gone for weeks now, I think she must've died.

I thought that the night flock might have indicated the arrival of the Wigeons, but a brief trip to the lake, and I only see an increase in Mergansers (the females.  I noticed last winter that the males only seemed to show up on the weekend.  And they look different enough, that I thought they must be a different species) and one lone Western Grebe, hanging out with the Mallards.

The changing of the guard.