Birding gives disabled women their active lives back

BOW, Skagit County -- Patricia Lott and Ann Marie Wood may not be able to run or climb mountains anymore, but they've found something that's given them wings to soar above their troubles.

And they want to share it.

Birding, they say, has given them back their lives.

"Ann Marie and I are both into birding and we're both disabled," says Lott, who battles scleroderma or systemic dystrophy, a degenerative disease of the connective tissue and skin. "The reason we got into birding was because it was a way to get outside and get some exercise. It gets you back out into nature without a big physical investment. We both swear by it."

They've both become superb birders, too, able to distinguish in a wing beat, for example, a gyrfalcon from a peregrine falcon during a brief aerial tussle.

"I've had to give up so many things that had meaning to me," says Wood, who in her physical prime could run six miles. "Finally I decided I was not going to sit at home and die a slow death. I channeled all my energy into the study of birds. It engages your mind, your spirit, it's fun and it's social."

JIM BRYANT / P-I

From left, Judy Clifford, Etta Cosey and Susan Barnes, all of Seattle, spot waterfowl from the beach on Samish Island.

Once unable to leave even her Seattle home, Lott has worked her way out of her wheelchair and back onto her feet through physical therapy and, she insists, through birding. Although she still moves slowly and can walk only limited distances, Lott now leads "accessible birding" fields trips for the Seattle chapter of the Audubon Society.

Wood, who battles systemic dystrophy and osteoporosis and tells a similarly compelling story, often comes along.

"People need to know these trips exist, because it's extremely intimidating at first," Lott says. "The first time I went on an Audubon trip, it was a desperation move."

Earlier this month Lott led a Seattle Audubon trip to the Samish Flats and Padilla Bay, a rich birding area in Skagit County where an amazing variety of eagles, hawks, falcons, ducks, geese, swans and songbirds spend the winter. Driving to several locations, sometimes birding by car through binoculars, but usually getting out and walking short distances to various viewpoints, we experienced some remarkable encounters with many species -- 58 all told.

It was inspiring to witness the passion of Lott and Wood, and to see them pushed by that passion.

JIM BRYANT / P-I

A gyrfalcon rests on the crossbar of a power pole near Samish Bay.

"Birding involves not only some physical stimulation, but also some mental stimulation," says Wood, a Dominican sister and former crisis intervention counselor at Children's Hospital. "You can get as involved in it as you want. I'm out just about every day. I'd rather go birding than to physical therapy."

One of our first stops was along the lower Samish River, where we got out to observe more than a dozen bald eagles, some sitting in a field, some in nearby trees and several soaring and swooping, as well as an assortment of pintail, gadwall, golden eye and other ducks. Along a nearby dike we spotted a mountain chickadee, a small black and gray songbird similar in appearance to the everyday black-capped chickadee, but not often seen in the Western Washington lowlands.

While driving from spot to spot, Lott, once a very active person, told her story. The first symptoms of her disease -- severe plantar fasciitis and Achilles tendinitis -- appeared after she began a vigorous walking program to improve her fitness. Over time, her maladies became so debilitating she could hardly move.

"I had been a hiker and scrambler and tried to get out most weekends," she explains. "For awhile, turning from my front to my back was my big exertion of the day. So it was really killing me inside."

A friend suggested she put a saucer of water outside her back door to bring in some birds and at least experience nature in a small way.

JIM BRYANT / P-I

Reference book in hand, Ann Marie Wood uses a spotting scope in a field near Padilla Bay. The Mountlake Terrace woman has limited mobility but has found she can enjoy nature through bird-watching.

"When I saw house sparrows come in to bathe, I would get out of my wheelchair and shimmy up on my belly to see them close," Lott says. "The birds were so gorgeous, they drew me out. I wanted to be in nature. I think nature is very healing intrinsically."

She got some birding books and feeders and saw an amazing variety in her back yard -- 49 species, enough to whet her appetite for more.

She called the leader of an Audubon field trip to see if she could participate in her wheelchair. "I felt like such a burden, but people were actually arguing over who would push me around in my wheelchair."

She led her first accessible birding trip from her wheelchair.

We stopped at a state wildlife area on the Samish Flats and watched song sparrows hop around the bushes, northern harriers prowl the fields in their lilting, tilting, halting fashion and in the distance an undulating cloud of dunlins, rising, falling and fluttering in unison, as these shorebirds do.

While driving toward Samish Island, Lott spotted a gyrfalcon on a power pole and we pulled over, got out and "glassed" the impressive raptor, a pale one that stood more than 20 inches high.

JIM BRYANT / P-I

A song sparrow perched on a blackberry bramble in the Samish Bay area.

Gyrfalcons are not rare here, but an uncommon treat since, as an arctic bird, northern Washington is the southern extent of their range. As we watched, the "gyr" swooped off the pole and over a field. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a similar bird soared down to intersect its flight. In a split second these two fearsome birds rolled sideways in midair and extended their talons toward each other before winging off in separate directions.

"It's a peregrine!" Wood exclaimed.

"Wow, oh wow!" said Lott "That was amazing."

The peregrine falcon, smaller but similar to a gyrfalcon -- both of them hunters that catch smaller birds in the air -- is said to be the fastest bird on Earth. Our two experts figured the encounter was a territorial tussle.

"Everything from here on is icing on the cake," said a smiling Lott.

We stopped on Samish Island to see a variety of saltwater-oriented birds, such as red-breasted mergansers, surf scoters, Pacific and common loons and grebes. We passed several groups of trumpeter and tundra swans feeding and sleeping in farm fields.

JIM BRYANT / P-I

Ducks come in for a landing on Samish Bay, a rich birding area that can be experienced on foot, in a wheelchair or from a car.

Another along on the trip was Etta Cosey of Seattle, a new birder and fast learner. "I have two artificial knees, so this is perfect," she said.

Our last stop was on Fir Island, in the delta of the Skagit River, where thousands of snow geese fed noisily in a farm field, harassed periodically by a local hound. Here the party mustered the strength to hike out on a dike to get a closer look. En route a bald eagle soared low over the field, causing the snow geese to lift off enmasse before setting back into the field.

Wood and Lott made the half-mile round trip with slow determination.

"I'm going to pay for this tomorrow," Wood said.

My sense was that Lott would too.

But if their bodies ached, it was apparent their souls were soothed.

If you go

• Seattle Audubon's field trips are free (gas costs are shared) and open to non-members. See www.seattleaudubon.org You also may call 206-523-4483. Trips for those confined to wheelchairs or those who travel slowly are offered periodically. The next accessible trip is March 12 at Carkeek Park in Seattle, 9 a.m. (see "Neighborhood Bird Walks" on the Web site).

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