Finding a vision for island living

Our vine maple, one of nature's weed trees.

I love this season of colorful vine maples and ripening huckleberries in our half-wild back yard. We live in a forest setting so you might say the view never changes – just trees and sky.

But what's changing constantly for Sue and me are the birds and wildlife that come and go all day.

We look up and see deer grazing or a coyote slinking across the yard. We check a certain tree overlooking our orchard and find Bubba, our owl friend, sleeping off a hard night. And we dodge fir cones the squirrels rain down on us as they strip the trees to stockpile reserves for the winter. 

A Cedar Waxwing brings salal berries to its young in our yard.

Moving here from the city in the 1980s my intentions for the yard were quite different. My dream was to eradicate the native brush and rotting snags and replace them with a weedless, sterile lawn and the kinds of flowers I’d admired for years in city yards.

With power tools and poisons, I would conquer every square inch of our yard, rid our view of huckleberries, pave our gravel road and plant a rose garden.

This season's huckleberries are plumping up right now.

I asked a local nursery about chemicals to kill weeds and moss, grow grass, and stamp out fungus and Black Spot. To my surprise, they answered as non-judgmentally as they could that they didn’t carry poisons or encourage their use.

It took me a long time to get that it isn't a step forward to conquer and replace nature -- just the opposite. Huckleberries and salal are a magnet for the birds and animals that now bring beauty and mystery to our lives every day. These hardy bushes provide shelter to ground-nesting birds,  rabbits and voles, which attract other wildlife to our yard to hunt.

A Red-breasted Sapsucker eats our huckleberries.

Some might say an old, rotting snag is ugly, but it’s beautiful if you love the sensational Pileated Woodpeckers that come to jackhammer it.   

Last summer we watched elegant Cedar Waxwings feed their gangly newborns in a tree by our deck. And we delighted when Northern Flickers brought their vulnerable young to peck ants from our crumby lawn, which is riddled with dandelions the rabbits eat. Every winter, our berry-laden bushes attract colorful visitors such as Red-breasted Sapsuckers to brighten the view outside our windows.

Like many other people, we put out a hummingbird feeder each spring to welcome the tiny Rufous Hummingbirds that migrate thousands of miles to return here -- specific individuals often showing up in the same yards where they were banded in past years! But we don't kid ourselves. We know they aren't here for a few cups of sugar water in a plastic dish. They come in droves for the blossoming salmonberry bushes that grow wild in the woods.

This Varied Thrush had a winter feast on our crabapples.

The wild creatures are a huge part of our quality of life. It's one of the reasons Sue and I support Whidbey Camano Land Trust in their work to preserve farms, forests and other healthy habitat.

I've gradually learned we don’t have to control everything. Better to leave nature alone as much as reasonably possible so it can create something beautiful. If we interfere too much, we’ll just screw it up and make a poorly-functioning, problematic mess.

Sue and I were guests recently at the waterfront home of a gracious couple who live on a high bluff overlooking Puget Sound. They watch boats all day.  They are enjoying their golden years dining on crabs and salmon they catch from their own boat in front of their own home. It’s the Puget Sound dream!

What could be healthier than fresh salmon?  Well, just not too much, too often, because the flesh might be somewhat toxic. The experts say it's probably safe in moderation, but be careful if you're pregnant or nursing. That's the flip side of the Puget Sound dream.

This handsome young coyote had a sweet tooth for Gravensteins.

Our friends' view is breathtaking.  But as is typical of high-bluff properties, they have a long pipe called a tight-line that carries roof runoff including any moss-killing products down the bluff to the beach, where forage fish lay their eggs. Salmon feed voraciously on those forage fish, to the extent that they hatch and survive.

This couple’s pride is their perfect front yard, a fairyland of manicured beds, interconnecting lawns, vegetable plots and winding paths. They've cleared the trees and brush and scraped away centuries of ground cover.

"Bubba," the Great-horned Owl, is our rodent police.

Now to their dismay, their new lawn is sprouting buttercups – even after they applied weed-n-feed. Their vision is to gaze at a deep, lush carpet of green, so they asked us about products to kill the broadleafs.

“It depends on your values and vision,” I blurted, then instantly regretted the edge in my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was attack the wonderland our hosts had worked so hard to create.

What I wanted to explain is that beauty means different things to different people. I’ve come to believe the most beautiful and joyful thing in my world is to live in a place that is healthy for wildlife and humans.  Buttercups aren’t so bad. Weeds grow where we disturb the soil, but not where nature runs the show.

Even this guy makes us smile.

Plants need excessive watering when we introduce the wrong ones. Leave nature alone and it will choose the right, drought-tolerant plants. Grass is a good ground cover for septic drain-fields but not much else when you live in a climate of dry summers and moss-promoting winters.

Of course most people don't have the space to live quite as wild as we do. But even in a built-up neighborhood -- in fact especially there -- why not steer away from chemicals?  Keep some natural ground cover and pursue a different vision. Offer the wildlife a sliver of wild habitat, safe food and clean water.  If we all do that, our earth and marine waters will be healthier.

Blacktail deer bring quiet grace to our forest setting.

To me, a few yellow flowers in a lawn aren’t ugly; they’re beautiful. They make a statement about what's really important versus just cosmetic.

They are a sign the birds can bring their young to eat from that lawn without getting poisoned, and that we aren’t poisoning the ground from which we draw the previously-used water we drink every day of our lives.

Everything is connected. Beauty is more than skin deep -- much, much more.

Mating season?

Adult male Hairy Woodpecker, on Sunday

Just when it looked like we had turned the corner toward spring, today we turned back sharply the other way.

A few days ago our Hairy Woodpeckers had been feeling pretty frisky, flying erratically around the yard and staking out their territories by drumming on our house and gutters. Northern Flickers had moved into the vegetable garden, pecking at the bare earth. The big behemoths of the woodpecker world, Pileated Woodpeckers, were drumming on large, resonant snags in the distance.

Now it appears we'll have a few nights in the 20s with the possibility of four to six inches of snow. Action will center on the suet feeder, where the woodpeckers can build up their energy reserves for the cold conditions.

Even though Hairy Woodpeckers are among the most common birds in our woods I find them uncommonly beautiful and fun to watch. Mating starts early, during the winter, but the real show comes later.

Northern Flickers load up on suet as the snow comes down.

That will be when whole families show up together at the suet feeder for the first time, later this spring. The newborns will be easy to spot by their disoriented, goofy behavior, often sitting dazed for long periods on a post or the lawn, as if not knowing what to do next.

When they finally reach the feeder they will cling and wait for their parents to feed them, beak to beak. It's one of the best shows of the season, right from my window.

Today's reality check.

Even as the woods transform themselves once again to a winter wonderland, the days are growing dramatically longer.  Can spring be far behind?

For Craig Johnson and wild birds, the benefits flow both ways

Note: My best tip for anyone planning to attend Sound Waters University, Saturday, Feb. 5, at South Whidbey High School, is to sign up for any class taught by Craig and Joy Johnson. They photograph and paint wild birds, write about them, publish books and educate. This year they are teaching "The Woodpeckers of Whidbey Island." To get on the mailing list for Sound Waters enrollment, which opens Jan. 7, click here: Sound Waters University, and then click on the blue button marked "Join our Sound Waters Mailing List." For more about wild birds: Craig and Joy Johnson's website.

Craig Johnson with a little Downy Woodpecker on the screen saver.

By DAN PEDERSEN

Is it crazy to think that specific birds coming into Craig Johnson's yard in Freeland recognize and trust him? I don't think it is. The winged activity in Johnson's yard on any given afternoon is a complex drama with many sub-plots. In the middle of it all, studying every detail and loving it, sits Johnson.

Researchers have documented that crows recognize specific human beings and will hold onto a deep grudge against people who do them wrong -- even alerting their friends about these human enemies. Other crows learn second-hand to recognize these evil-doers and join in outbursts of angry scolding and mobbing in the future.

Male Pileated Woodpecker at Johnson's suet feeder.

So it may not be a stretch to assume it also works the other way. Some of the birds that approach Johnson on his deck know they can trust him -- that he's one of the gentle, non-threatening, good guys. Some of Johnson's regulars are even Steller's Jays, corvids closely related to the crows.

"Oh, yeah, I think the big Pileated Woodpecker recognizes me for sure, just because I see that individual bird so much," Johnson says. "He knows I'm here. As long as I am mindful and don't make any sudden moves he will stay on the tree and won't fly away."  The tree is just a few feet away.

"And I'm probably getting some of the same Northern Flickers over and over." Johnson is generous with treats, tossing peanuts to the normally-wary Steller's Jays that sneak closer and closer on the overhanging limbs and hop toward him on the deck. "I can tell the difference between the different ones. Certain individuals will come almost within arm's reach."

Northern Flicker

He laughs because the very shrewd jays and a gullible Douglas squirrel named G-Dog compete for those peanuts and steal from each other, but the jays always win. They watch G-Dog stash them. When he turns his back, they raid the cache.

All five species of Whidbey Island woodpeckers visit Johnson's yard, taking advantage of native landscaping, nearby conifers and a suet feeder. "The Downy and Hairy Woodpeckers can be very tolerant when you fill the feeder," Johnson says. "I'd say I've done more woodpecker photography in the yard than in the woods because our back yard is so uncontrolled. They come and bring their young. All the species have brought their fledglings here except possibly the Sapsucker."

Watching those juveniles is one of Johnson's great rewards. "I have many photos from our yard where the juvenile Northern Flickers are watching the dad -- very intently watching him -- and he's feeding them ants from the lawn. I mention this so that maybe a few people will decide they can get along without using insecticides. I've watched the juvenile Hairy Woodpeckers, watched the red nape patch move from the forehead to the back of the head as they grow. I love that, especially this year with my health."

Red-breasted Sapsucker

The proof of all this yard activity is some sensational close-ups Johnson has taken with a simple point-and-shoot camera while sitting on his deck on sunny days. But this is where the story gets harder to write. Many people know of Johnson's incredible hand-held images taken with a big Nikon, single-lens reflex camera and a 400mm telephoto lens. Fewer people know Johnson no longer has that camera, nor the reason.

An aggressive, untreatable, neurological disease in the MS family is attacking his body, muscular control, vision, balance, computer-use, livelihood and, at times, mental focus. He cannot carry that camera any more nor go into the field to photograph birds. So now the birds come to him and that is an immense blessing.

"When you're out in nature it's inspiring. It's rejuvenating for me. When the birds come I don't think about my jobs or problems, or even my back ache. We don't have a TV here and haven't had one for 20 years. During the daylight hours in the summer especially, the outdoors is our break. I come out from my drawing table and sit on the deck and admire the birds. I'm thankful to have a yard like this, land that has not been over-groomed or controlled. Without that I wouldn't have the connection to nature. I'm not mobile. I'm very thankful the people who own this house agree (the Johnsons rent).  They're on the same page."

Tiny, Downy Woodpecker on Madrone branch.

"People come over here -- birders -- and say my gosh this is perfect habitat. The birders acknowledge all the ocean spray, the thrushes coming out, woodpeckers . . .  This little madrona tree next to the railing here, most people would cut it down, but just in the last two months, every day, there have been Golden-crowned and Ruby-crowned Kinglets and Bushtits flitting about, sallying insects, and tons of Chickadees. Having a habitat in your back yard can be huge for just being able to look out your window and take a break from whatever you're doing."

"That's what I tell people. There is a lot going on and if you have a nice, groomed yard, you are missing out."

Johnson points out that in addition to the therapeutic, almost meditative benefits of watching birds, he also benefits in human relationships. As the Johnsons deal with Craig's illness, they are being showered with love and support by many members of Whidbey Audubon Society who cherish them for their years of generosity with photographic images, watercolor art and educational presentations.

Hairy Woodpecker drinking at a clean birdbath.

"If you care for birds, you care for people," Johnson says. "Whether you love whales, trees, birds, a clean lake -- if you care about any of those things, you're also about humanity."

Johnson says he has never thought of himself as a photographer. "Not really. I've done it, yeah, but I just love birds. I wanted to capture the images so I could show others who might not have the time to see what the birds were doing. Bird photography was never to make money. It makes me feel better to just give the images to Whidbey Camano Land Trust or use them in our books. I do it to help nature and promote learning."

For their woodpecker presentation at Sound Waters University on Saturday, Feb. 5, Johnson says he hopes to inspire his audience and perhaps encourage them to learn a little more about woodpeckers and about the environment. "Maybe someone will decide to keep an old, dead snag in their yard instead of cutting it down."

Craig and Joy Johnson are the authors of a new children's book, The Amazing Hummingbird Story of Red Rufous, available for $9.95 plus tax from many island bookstores and shops, and elsewhere in the Puget Sound region. The book features Craig's beautiful watercolor paintings of hummingbirds and is highly educational. To order a copy directly from Craig and Joy, visit their website: http://pugetsoundbackyardbirds.com/