A catastrophic fire, an expert guide, and a dauntless scabland bird

Before an outing at dawn a few days ago I had only seen my friend Lindell Haggin twice in the past year. Both of those times were on remote video sessions devoted to habitat restoration. Suffice to say, in-person adventures are superior to Zoom meetings. With Covid vaccinations and Spokane’s sunrise dog walkers behind us, the first landmark ahead–just past Airway Heights on U.S. Highway 2–was a field of blooming canola so bright I reached for my sunglasses.

We were headed even further west, passing through shafts of sunlight piercing billowing clouds, the largest of which were throwing down veils of snow and rain. The purplish downbursts had wave-like curls to them, a symptom of a strong jet stream whistling above.

The plan for the morning was to try to find a sage thrasher, a bird somewhat smaller than a robin and far less common. Unlike robins and mallards and magpies, sage thrashers don’t fly into town. That said, I’m embarrassed to report that although I was born in the sagelands and have spent countless hours wandering through them, I had not—until last week—seen or heard a sage thrasher, or at least had never gotten close enough to one that I’d recognize it. It was past time to rectify this and Lindell—one of the inland northwest’s premier bird experts and a widely admired conservationist—agreed to be my guide. (Lindell is also a superb photographer and you can see and read more about her work in this 2015 profile.)