Zoophilist

What a funny word, zoophilist.  According to Merriam-Webster it means a lover of animals.  That, I am.  Not every insect appeals to me, but I'm hard-pressed to think of a single animal I wouldn't enjoy seeing.  Some form a safe distance, of course (badgers, bears, big cats, alligators, poisonous snakes, sharks - you get the idea).  But critters in general fascinate me, and I delight in getting to view them.

Week before last, Tim and I went south to Seward for a few days, and we were blessed with lots of sightings in both the wild and at the the Alaska SeaLife Center.  Before going to the ASLC, I looked at their website to see what we could expect.  I noticed the amount of time for a visit was suggested as 1-2 hours.  Off the bat I thought "well, I guess we better plan for 3-4 hours" knowing full well we'd want to see EVERYTHING and likely more than once.  I was not wrong.  

Steller sea lions, harbor seals, Tufted Puffins, Horned Puffins, Common Murres, Smews, King Eiders, sea cucumbers, sea stars, sea urchins, moon jellyfish, spot prawns, rockfish, skates, salmon, cod, crabs, etc., etc.  So many creatures to view and watch!  We had a blast.  One of their harbor seals is named Tuq, and he was found at a local beach when he was quite young.  He has a neurological disorder that causes his head to shake a bit.  I could have watched him for days.  One of their sea lions swam in circles through her tank over and over, seemingly watching us as we stood in place and giggled each time she passed by.  Never mind the birds!  Who isn't beguiled by puffins?  Enchanted by Black Oystercatchers?  Charmed by Red-legged Kittiwakes?  I very much envy the folks who work there even knowing that sometimes animals get sick or die, that they sometimes face funding challenges and certainly the upkeep and caretaking is constant.  And yet they seem like a happy bunch who love to share their knowledge with guests.  I learned a lot, and asked many, many questions.  The ASLC is a gem.  

This sea otter swam so close to our perch on the beach that we could hear it chewing!

Wandering about town and a bit beyond on our own, we saw some of the same creatures - seals, sea lions, murres, moon jellyfish (albeit dead).  We also saw lots of others - two sea otters, a humpback whale, a handful of moose, dozens of Bald Eagles, about a million gulls near the Pacific Seafood processing plant, Buffleheads, Common Mergansers, Common Goldeneye, Harlequin Ducks, Surf Scoters, cormorants, and a small sedge of Sandhill Cranes flying over the harbor.  We had heard cranes while walking the docks and eventually saw a group of five soaring high above the harbor.  This made me quite happy as Sandhills are one of my favorite birds and a species I anxiously await returning in the spring.  

We almost didn't take this mid-week trip to Seward.  The weather forecast was calling for rain and possible snow showers.  We were unsure what would be open in the off season as far as amenities go.  And neither of us has traveled since before covid except for work or to see family.  We're rather out of the habit of traveling for pleasure, but we're so glad we went.  The weather was miles better than we expected, the place where we stayed was one block from the beach, and we met many friendly locals all around town.  It pays to get out of your routine now and then.  

Trumpeter Swans

 

After spotting very large duck-like prints in the snow at a local marsh (my husband joked they were from a pterodactyl), we observed a lovely pair of Trumpeter Swans.  They were busy eating whatever vegetation they could find along the creek and eventually drifted in our direction.  It was such a treat to get a close up viewing.

There is still plenty of snow on the ground in our neck of the woods, but according to ebird.org, some migratory bird species have returned (goldeneye, Gadwalls, gulls, mergansers).  We've yet to go in search, but I hope to get out in the field more soon.  Some of these species only pass through on their route further north, and their time here is fleeting.  It's too early for Northern Pintails, Northern Shovelers, Arctic Terns, and yellowlegs but having daylight until 9 pm these days makes me hopeful for their return as well.   

Why does break up take so long?

Break up is the term Alaskans use for spring.  Despite living here for six years, I still yearn for spring on lower 48 terms.  More specifically, upstate New York spring that is usually a mixture of rain, sunny days warm enough to open windows, snow, skies the bleakest shades of grey, and then suddenly trees green up/bud and migratory birds return.  Here in Alaska, this all takes ages and ages.  Last year we had snow on the ground into May, and it seems this year will be much the same.  

So you can imagine my longing as I peruse blog posts by folks outside Alaska that are full of trees in bloom with fritillaries or snow drops or daffodils on the ground.  (While we're surrounded by dirty snow and pothole filled roads yet to be repaired.)  It's a type of cruelty to myself perhaps, but it also brings me a measure of joy and appreciation while stoking my pining for early summer - which is pretty much equivalent to spring where I grew up.  

Hooded Merganser drake

While waiting, I'll content myself with signs of seasonal change such as melting snow, increasing hours of daylight and hearing the heat kick on less often.