More Than Sightseeing

What an amazing trip around the Olympic Mountains.

I was able to show my brother the majesty of Washington, spend quality time with my wife and daughter, and experience some incredible places while finding birds along the way. After four years of birding in Washington, lifers are becoming harder and harder to come by, so coming away from this trip with six new species felt special.

But the six lifers aren’t what stayed with me most after the trip ended.

What stayed with me was how differently birding now shapes the way I experience a place.

Years ago, I never would have driven two hours out of the way to visit a wildlife refuge alongside a fairly unimpressive river. Without birds, there really wouldn’t have been much reason for me to go to Ridgefield National Wildlife Refuge. But because of birding, that place became spectacular.

The ponds were alive with activity. Deer wandered through the refuge. My excitement over finally finding a Yellow-headed Blackbird quickly turned into the anticipation of searching for a Sandhill Crane. Then came the brief but unforgettable moment of an American Bittern lifting from the reeds and disappearing just as quickly as it appeared.

And throughout all of it, I wasn’t experiencing those moments alone.

What stood out almost as much as the birds themselves was seeing my family become excited too.

At the coast near Ocean Shores, I let my brother drive my vehicle directly on the beach just so he could experience something uniquely Washington. But even that became intertwined with birds. A Marbled Godwit standing along the shoreline became an opportunity to point out its long two-toned bill. At the jetty, Brown Pelican flew directly overhead while Black Turnstone blocked our route across the rocks. A brief mystery bird suddenly turned into a confirmed Wandering Tattler. Sea lions surfaced and disappeared around us while everyone scanned for movement.

Even the quiet moments changed.

At our coastal cabin near Kalaloch Lodge, the scenery alone would have been enough. Yet I found myself spending long stretches of time watching swallows circle above the cabins and explaining the differences between four species flying overhead. A Cliff Swallow suddenly appearing among the others became exciting because I could explain why I knew it was different. Then a Rufous Hummingbird perched barely ten feet away and all of us simply stopped and admired it together.

At the Hoh Rain Forest, the landscape already feels almost unreal. But the birds somehow made the forest feel even more alive. Pacific Wren sang loudly from hidden perches while warblers remained mostly unseen above us. Catching even a quick glimpse of a Black-throated Gray Warbler felt like uncovering a small secret hidden inside the forest itself.

Then came Neah Bay.

The bay was packed with seabirds. Eagles seemed to occupy every available perch, including an entire tree holding at least a dozen Bald Eagle at once. I got to show my brother the unmistakable bright bill of a Black Oystercatcher while unexpected sightings kept appearing throughout the day, turning simple stops into discoveries we shared together.

At Cape Flattery, the scenery was already breathtaking, but what pulled my attention immediately was a rock holding nearly thirty Harlequin Duck together. Before this trip, I had never seen more than two at a time.

Then on our final walk along Hobuck Beach, I spotted Hudsonian Whimbrel far down the shoreline and once again found myself explaining another uniquely shaped bill, another behavior, another species occupying its own niche in the landscape.

At one point during the trip, my daughter casually identified birds and behaviors that years ago would have meant nothing to her, and it struck me how much of this world she had quietly absorbed simply from being around it over time.

Even Sol Duc Falls became more than just scenery when an American Dipper flew low over the rushing water before landing downstream. And later, a Varied Thrush moving quietly through the forest became another chance to show my brother one of my favorite Washington birds.

There are dozens of other moments I could mention, but that’s really the point.

We weren’t just looking at birds.

We were noticing things together.

Different species occupying different habitats. Sounds hidden within forests. Movement tucked into shorelines and streams. Tiny moments that could easily be overlooked becoming the very things we remembered most.

The scenery alone would have made the trip worthwhile. But birding changed the experience from simply seeing Washington to fully engaging with it.

I used to think birding was mostly about finding birds. Somewhere along the way, it became about attention, shared experiences, and learning how to fully inhabit a place for a little while.

Just people standing quietly together watching swallows fly overhead.

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