Written by Greg Weiter, FOMR Volunteer and Friend
Photos by Greg Weiter
When I saw the midnight moonless sky atop Sagehen Hill I knew I had made the right decision traveling that night. The endless layers of stars held encrypted all the secrets of the past and somehow knew the future as well. Resting without ever sleeping the long-awaited silence was music to my ears. The early morning hour drive found me in the company of familiar faces becoming closer to real friends each visit,
and a hot cup of coffee in hand.
Turning into the refuge I realized I was visiting an entirely new place. The endless shades of green and shimmering bodies of bird filled waters had given way to vast profiles of gold and yellow grasses outlining the topography, while the blue sky welcomed the blanket of clouds that seemed to know something like the stars. Not long after I photographed a Townsends Solitaire bathing on the banks of the Little Blitzen. A short walk later I was welcomed by the always wonderful Marsh Wren, and a Ruby Crowned Kinglet in vibrant display. Little did I know what I would come to realize through the coming days.
That evening brought cold air and dark skies, and without the hero core of the Milky Way in view, the night photography revealed real life dark sky images. The cold dry air contrasted the lush foggy shores of the Salish Sea where I currently nest and gave my sleeping bag real purpose. The next morning the nights silence persisted well into daylight and felt askew. A wonderful walk showed me a few more of the locals, deer, coyotes, and a beautiful Great Horned owl I wondered if I had seen as a nestling earlier in April. A long slow drive up Steens Mountain for the first time helped me see the stern winters approach, and a lone Northern Shrike (pictured left) on a branch in a stand of leafless trees had an ominous tone. The silence overall persisted, and this visit was becoming the most important in the collection of them I’ve been able to make over these short two years learning Malheur Refuge.
In this absence of the symphony of bird song, the flight speckled sky, the waters swirling with paddling, dabbling, plummeting divers, and trees ornamented by a rainbows coloring of birds, I understood these species are not just visiting. There is no other Malheur for them to go and to be, they are because of here. What we know of as Malheur NWR is how thousands of birds and a deep variety of species, exist.
Its lasting protection and care is just as tenuous. Thankfully the Friends of Malheur are a tangible source of hope, hope as a verb, not a prayer. Investing in all the things that this vital life force is, are a group of brilliant, motivated and dedicated people turning every penny of challenge into dollars of action and hope. Please share this, or your own words of passion for this place, and your love for our refuge with a new person to bolster our membership base and community.
Thank you.
