The San Joaquin and Merced rivers are in flood, and as we arrive at the San Luis National Wildlife Refuge parking lot, just off the two-lane California highway 38, there are lakes and pools of water extending in every direction. The refuge seems closed, but closer reading of an informational sign reveals that it is open to foot traffic alone, So, donning binoculars and bird book, we lock the camper and set out. Great egrets beckon from the water, and clouds of swallows wheel overhead.
There are astonishing swarms of bugs on the dirt road, some of them so thick they seem to be single entities. Galen whips at them with his sweatshirt, but it soon becomes clear that this does nothing but fill his hood with bugs. He rants and raves that we shoudld head back, that the bugs are driving him crazy, but the bugs are hardly interested in us, and soon Will gets the hang up ignoring them, as Kate and I begin eagerly identifying the birds in sight: western Kingbirds sitting atop bushes and jumping up for flies; red tailed hawks soaring; song sparrows; coots swimming in the water; mockingbirds flying from high point to high point. In the distance we can hear Canada Geese. None of these are unusual or exotic species (except the egrets) but the palpable chatter of life around us in itself exciting.
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