August 12, 2024
One of the kōlea I visit on my winter morning walks returned on Saturday, August 10th. I call the bird Bougie because he forages in a field behind a row of bougainvillea bushes (below) spaced apart enough for me to peek through without getting punctured
“Welcome home, my friend,” I whispered, feeling teary as I watched the bird run-and-peck, run-and-peck. “You did it.”
After seeing kōlea in Alaska in June, their miracle of migration moves me more than ever. To know that this little bird just flew 3,000 miles, nonstop, in three days, well, then some things in the world are right and good.
I’m not the only one to have my spirits lifted by a bird. As of this writing, kolea fans have reported 288 returns on the kōlea count website. (I have to continually increase that number as I write this.) Thank you for reporting your birds’ returns on the site’s REPORT tab and for sharing comments and photos. Below are a few, among many, that make me smile:
- “First one to come back home! So happy to see my little friend! Kinda skinny, but looks good overall. So happy!!!”
- “Our friend is back!”
- “Riding in the NaWahine triathlon saw this Kolea on Kahala Avenue & filled me with new energy! Made me happy.”
- “After filling up my car at Sam’s Club gas station, I looked up to see my first returned plover of the year. I felt good!”
- “Saw my first Kolea at Maunawili Elementary on Aug 1st. So excited!!!”
I get it. The plover-return season makes me feel good too, from seeing the birds themselves to hearing from other people who also love them.
On Saturday, my happy feeling even extended to cats, unusual for me given a cat allergy, as well as my work with birds.
After leaving Bougie, I walked on with a spring in my step, feeling so cheery that when a cat appeared in the road, and rolled onto its back at my feet, I reached down to pet it.
The cat hissed and scratched my hand to bleeding. A woman watering her garden apologized, explaining that she rescued six feral cats, and had loaded her pheromone machine that morning, but maybe got the mixture wrong because they were all acting weird. (I had no idea what she was talking about. A cat-owner friend explained later, but that’s another story.)
The nice woman offered to clean my wounds. “Thanks,” I said. “But I’m fine.”
And I meant it. The woman was being kind and the cat was just being itself. The joy I was feeling over my plover’s return had spilled over to turn a negative experience into just another life adventure. Thank you, dear kōlea, for making me pet a cat.