Miles: collective 18 (Evan, Morgan)
Yet another day that I’m grateful to have a photographer boyfriend and Nat Geo environs. Lake Washington Boulevard lies flat and close to the edge of the water, bringing to mind epic beach days, languid strolls, and excellent bird watching. It’s one of my favorite running routes and I was really excited to share it with Evan. As we speedily rounded the bend to Seward Park, Evan noticed a huge flock of coots in the lake. We watched a bald eagle repeatedly dive at the group, parting it down the middle in the coots’ frenzy to escape. The sound of their wings was shockingly loud and almost mechanical. At the end, the eagle gave up without a tasty waterbird dinner, but I did have to eat my words about never having seen eagles at the park before.
I could use this time to wax poetic about avian symbols of American freedom, the majesty of a bird of prey, etc. Please look elsewhere for such nonsense and tune in for the most awkward, prehistoric weirdos loitering at the pond. American coots, most often observed around Greenlake, are surprisingly not ducks. They have lobed– not webbed– feet, which they flare out in the water to aid in swimming and walking through marshes. According to the Audubon Society, they communicate through “clucks, cackles, grunts, rattles, screams, and whistles,” and may live in “sewage lakes” which all just feels a little rude. I’d also take this as a dig at Greenlake. Coot chicks grow bright orange “ornament” feathers around their heads. Delightfully, scientists experimented with trimming these feathers down and discovered that coot parents preferentially feed the chicks with the brightest ornaments. Chicks are also brighter if their eggs were laid later in the clutch. This ensures a balance between the duller chicks who hatch early and have a head start on growth, and the brighter, ass-kissing chicks that hatch later.
Finally, a warning note to not look up coot chicks– they’re scary.