Retirement in Washington State

Just to let my regular readers know, Marlene and I have retired!

We have moved to Washington State to be closer to Marlene's family.

We'll surely miss the beach and the desert of San Diego County. And all our friends we made there in Escondido and elsewhere.

Our view!

Our long term goal for the next few years is RV living. Arizona in the winter and Washington in the summer. But we'll see what life brings instead of what we plan.

Right now RVs are unavailable or extra-expensive. People are buying them for their summer vacations, since other types of flights and vacations are on hold until the pandemic is over. And many RV campgrounds are closed, for the same reason.

In the mean time, the blog I started a year ago is bringing in income. I am still adding articles to it. If all continues, we can delay taking SSI and avoid going back to work (other than the blog). https://www.whatbirdsareinmybackyard.com/

So, this, then is the end of this blog.

Thank you for reading and joining me on this journey!

Greg

Spotted Towhee at Palomar Mountain and my childhood Laboratory

I was looking at this photo of Spotted Towhee I took recently and was reminded of a similar photo I took 45 years ago when I was 14 years old. The little film camera probably only had a plastic lens, and the cartridge held film for about 20 exposures.

My family had built a home out in the country on an acre of land in western Oregon. At the back was a small creek (ditch) that I dammed up. Next to it I cobbled together leftover scraps of plywood from our home into my personal hide-out. It wasn't a "clubhouse." It wasn't a "fort." It was "The Lab." There I kept my microscope, chemistry set, science books, and my science journals. I built a blind in one corner and set up a feeder just outside to photograph birds, including the then-named Rufous-sided Towhee.

Spotted Towhee. Palomar Mountain, California. June 17, 2018.

It's funny, 8 years later I was working in a laboratory on a mushroom farm in Ventura, California. Microscope, chemical testing, science books, and log books. No bird blinds. It would have made it feel more complete if it had one though.

California Thrashers make me cry!

When my kids were growing up, one of their favorite TV shows was reruns of Little House On The Prairie (1974-1983) starring Michael Landon and little Melissa Gilbert. I hated that show--it was so sappy, so predictable, so sad--it inevitably brought me to tears! And, if it was playing on TV, I just couldn't turn away--I was sucked in and hooked. How aggravating!

The original autobiographical story by Laura Ingalls Wilder took place in Walnut Grove, Minnesota. But the outdoor shots of the TV show were filmed in Simi Valley's Big Sky Ranch, north of Los Angeles, surrounded by mountains in eastern Ventura County. Seeing mountains in Minnesota's pancake-flat prairies (where I grew up as a child) was not the only odd thing. The outdoor filming in southern California brought many native California birdsongs into the sound track. Having the wrong birds singing on a movie or TV sound track is one of my pet peeves!

One of the loud singing birds obvious on the sound track during the show was the chaparral-loving California Thrasher. Whenever I hear California Thrashers singing I am reminded of little Laura and the troubles in her Little House 1,788 miles and 115 years away from the TV show in Simi Valley.

Recently I photographed a singing California Thrasher at Lake Hodges, south of Escondido, California. As you look at the photos below... try not to cry.

California Thrasher on Laurel Sumac. January 21, 2018. Lake Hodges, California.

When Greg met Phoebe

Eastern Phoebe. Tijuana River Valley, San Diego, California. January 18, 2015. Greg Gillson.

There are over 400 species of New World Tyrant Flycatchers, most in the tropics. Of these, only 3 are named with the Greek woman's name of Phoebe. Lacking eye rings and wing bars (except for 2 South American subspecies of Black Phoebe) as many other flycatchers, the tail wagging behavior and sweet "fee-bee" (Phoebe) calls make identification fairly straightforward. Phoebes nest commonly around people--often on back porches and out buildings.

On January 18, I made a successful effort to find and photograph a rather rare Eastern Phoebe that was fairly reliable down at the Bird and Butterfly Garden [site guide] in the Tijuana River Valley. As it turned out, I happened to photograph all three species of Phoebes this day! I present them here. Plus, I tell you the story of the very first time I met each species.

Eastern Phoebes breed from the Atlantic to the edges of the Rocky Mountains in Canada and the United States. In winter they move south to extreme southern US south into Central America. They are olive above with whitish breast and faintly yellow belly.

I first met Eastern Phoebe: January 9, 1982 at a golf course in Ventura, California. Discovered originally by others in December, but I didn't know about it. I found and identified this bird myself, independently--and took really good notes.

Say's Phoebe. Tijuana River Valley, San Diego, California. January 18, 2015. Greg Gillson.

Say's Phoebes are found in drier lands of western North America--from the 100th meridian westward, and reach all the way to Alaska in summer. In winter, northern birds move south as far as northern Central America. Vagrants can reach the East Coast in winter. They are grayish-brown with a black tail and buffy cinnamon colored below.

I first met Say's Phoebe: November 20, 1972. Albany, Oregon. This was one of the first birds I identified when I began recording birds in my backyard as a school project.

Black Phoebe. Chula Vista, California. January 18, 2015. Greg Gillson.

Black Phoebes are less migratory than the other species. They are resident from SW Oregon, through California and Arizona all the way to Argentina in South America. They are almost always found near water. They are blackish except for striking white belly and undertail coverts.

I first met Black Phoebe: March 22, 1976. Death Valley, California. I spent a week in Death Valley with my parents and grandparents during spring break.

South End of the Salton Sea: Day 1 (Looking back)

Abert's Towhee. Salton Sea NWR, Calipatria, California. December 26, 2014. Greg Gillson.

It had been 30 years and 2 months since I last had seen the black-faced Abert's Towhee. Guess what? It was right here on the south end of the Salton Sea.

It was October 6, 1984. Eldest daughter, Leslie, had just turned 4 years old only 3 weeks earlier. She and I headed out for 2 days at the Salton Sea--600 miles round trip. Leslie's mother and 2 younger sisters remained behind at home in Ventura, California. The temperature was over 100 degrees. The Salton Sea rotting smell pervaded everything, coming off the algae-bloom-strewn beach made primarily of dead fish bones. We ate cereal and sandwiches from the cooler, and slept out on the ground on a tarp at Finney Lake, watching the stars. We drove and walked, watched birds and had a wonderful time. I suspect that Leslie was too young to remember, but it is a fond father-daughter memory for me. (I'm hoping that Marlene doesn't remember, being left behind, as she was, with a 2 year old and newborn. I was only 26--What did I know? At least I think we were in an apartment then, and not still in the school bus we lived in for a year on the beach.)

So here I was on December 26, 2014, a mere 30 years after my last visit. This time with Marlene on a 4-day driving vacation. We had spent the previous night and this morning in Borrego Springs in eastern San Diego County. After lunch we drove farther east through the desert into Imperial County to Brawley at the south end of the Salton Sea.

By 1:30 pm we were driving north from Brawley on Lack Rd, past irrigated fields of spinach, cauliflower, onions, and broccoli. At one smoothly plowed and disced field I spied about 65 pale Killdeer-looking shorebirds way out in the field, about 1/4 mile distant. Good and bad. My life Mountain Plovers, but so far away I really couldn't make out field marks--I mean, really, how could I explain to someone why they weren't Black-bellied Plovers? Not how you want a life bird.

Snow Goose. Salton Sea NWR, Calipatria, California. December 26, 2014. Greg Gillson.

Slowly driving the farm fields we spotted over 500 Snow and 50 Ross's geese. There was even one blue-phased Snow Goose. Cattle Egrets were plentiful. One field had about 45 Sandhill Cranes.

Gambel's Quail. Salton Sea NWR, Calipatria, California. December 26, 2014. Greg Gillson.

At 3 pm we finally entered the parking lot of the Visitor Center at Sonny Bono Salton Sea National Wildlife Refuge (it's hard to get this image out of my mind). That's where I photographed the Abert's Towhee that begins this article. The Abert's Towhees were at the bird feeders with Mourning Doves, Common Ground-Doves, and Gambel's Quail. Oh, and a newly naturalized species which wasn't present in 1984--the Eurasian Collared-Doves.

Common Ground-Dove. Salton Sea NWR, Calipatria, California. December 26, 2014. Greg Gillson.

Just before dusk we drove down Garst Rd to the Red Hill Marina....

This rubble is all that's left of Red Hill Marina--a once rather famous birding location. December 26, 2014. Greg Gillson.

The Salton Sea was created accidentally in 1905 by a breach in an irrigation canal bringing water from the Colorado River into this valley. It took 2 years to stop the breach. During that time all the water of the Colorado River flowed into this low sink, 277 feet below sea level, and created this lake, 35 miles long and 15 miles wide.

The Salton Sea was a popular vacation spot in the 1950's, but the hot sun and fertilizer run-off from the farm fields, regularly created algae blooms that sucked all the oxygen out of the water, causing mass die-offs of fish,... and a stink that eventually turned all the vacation resorts into ghost towns.

And, evidently, the Red Hill Marina also succumbed to lowering water levels and fewer and fewer visitors. There is a 14-day stay free county park here; but it looks like most of the residents are more or less permanent campers.

The Salton Sea is dying. Each year this lake increases its salt content by 1% from irrigation runoff. Already it is saltier than the Pacific Ocean. In a few years it will be too salty for any fish to live. And the lake is evaporating faster than water is entering. Fresh water from the Colorado River into the Sea is supposed to be suspended in 2017, and the lake is expected to shrink rapidly. Plans are being made for a very small fresh-water Salton Sea in the north and salt marshes in the south by 2035. Some are fighting to save the Salton Sea. But it is very likely that it will soon be a very different place.

There were still birds to be found along the canals and shore of the Salton Sea on the way in to the former Red Hill Marina. There were 5000 Ring-billed Gulls, and lots of Double-crested Cormorants and many ducks. A Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs were standing side-by-side on one dike for comparison.

Herring Gull. Red Hill, Salton Sea, Calipatria, California. December 26, 2014. Greg Gillson.

We spent the night back south 10 miles at Westmorland at a very fine Americas Best Value Inn. Then we had a nice steak dinner at the Town Pump Steakhouse.

Then we made our plans for Day 2....
Continue on to Day 2, here.

Black-necked Stilt

Black-necked Stilt. Imperial Beach, California. July 4, 2014. Greg Gillson.

It was spring break of my senior year in high school. There are lots of teen movies about this time of life (none worth seeing based on their descriptions--but maybe that's just me). My experience was a bit different than most of my peers, I suspect.

My grandparents were snowbirds, camped out in the Arizona desert for the winter. They'd be coming home to Oregon soon. Could I take the bus from Oregon to Arizona, spend a week in the desert watching birds and exploring with my grandparents, and then return with them? Yes!

So I embarked on a 25-hour Grayhound bus trip from Albany, Oregon to Quartzsite, Arizona. I spent the week with my grandparents, camped out on the desert at Crystal Hill. We explored the desert, did some rock hounding, viewed Indian petroglyphs, and watched birds.

The trip home took a couple of days, my grandfather driving his red pickup and pulling the travel trailer. As we traveled Interstate 5 over the flooded rice paddies outside of Sacramento, I spied my first Black-necked Stilts, March 24, 1977.

Stilts have long necks and bills, and these impossibly long, coral pink legs. They look fragile--ready to break at any moment. Yet they aggressively protect their favorite nesting beaches. With loud chattering screams, starting a couple hundred feet away, they fly directly at the back of your head, gaining speed, veering off only at the very last second. "Please don't hit me. I'm afraid you'll crumple like a crêpe paper kite."

Buck and Babe

Buck Gillson. Quartzsite, Arizona. About 1982. Photo by Marlene Gillson.

No one knew my grandfather as Russel. He was called Buck from childhood. It was a fitting name, as he was quite a character. I can't believe he's been gone 22 years.

As snow birds, my earliest memories (1963) were of my grandparents visiting in the spring after returning to Minnesota from a winter camped out in the desert in Big Bend, Texas or other exotic places with accompanying dark tans, interesting souvenirs, and fascinating adventure stories. Later, after Marlene and I were married, we visited them a few times to camp with them for a few days on the desert at Crystal Hill, Arizona, where Marlene took the above photo: "Come on, girl, are you gonna take all day to get this photo?"

Grandma's name was Leora, but she was called Babe since childhood. Everyone knew them as Buck and Babe ("like a team of mules," my grandfather would say). They were both 17 when they married.

Helen, Walter, and Russel Gillson about 1916. Mankato, Minnesota.

This picture is new to me, I mean, I hadn't seen it before about 5 years ago when my sister Sheri emailed it to me. Comment from my sister: "Grandpa as a little scrapper in knee britches, bare-feet, and about as ornery as I've ever seen a little boy look."

This photo looks like it could have inspired "Lil' Rascals" (1922-1937).

Formally educated until the 8th grade, I always remember stacks of 15-20 library books at a time in my grandfather's home on every topic from astronomy and psychology, to steam locomotives.

The obituary below must have appeared in a Mankato, Minnesota newspaper. I don't know where I picked it up. 

Russel M[arvin] Gillson [1911-1991]

   Salem, Ore.-- Longtime Mankato[, Minnesota] resident Russel M. "Buck" Gillson, 80, died Tuesday, December 31, 1991, at Salem, Ore., where he had lived since 1987.
   Memorial services were Jan. 4 at the Oak Park Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses in Salem, Ore.
   Mr. Gillson was born in Mankato, Jan. 22, 1911, to Thomas and Lorena (Kraft) Gillson. He married Leora Blanshan in Mankato, Jan 19, 1929. He was employed as a fireman on steam locomotives for the Chicago and North Western Rail Road; as a foreman in the Mankato Parks Department; worked at Continental Can Co.; was a tool and die man at Kato Engineering for many years; and after working for a time as a carpenter, became a stationary steam engineer at St. Joseph's Hospital. In 1967 he moved to Albany, Ore., working there as a stationary engineer until he retired. He moved to Salem about 4 years ago. He was a member of Jehovah's Witnesses and enjoyed music and collecting fossils.
   Mr. Gillson is survived by his wife; a son, Ronald of Yreka, Calif.; a daughter, Phyllis Sisson of Salem, Ore.; a sister, Helen Cornwell of Hemet, Calif.; 6 grandchildren; and 12 great-grandchildren.

See my previous post on the Gillson family.

Leora Gertrude Blanshan Gillson [1911-2008]
Born June 25, 1911 in Fairbanks, Minnesota. Died December 15, 2008 in Salem, Oregon at 97 years of age.

More on my grandmother's family is on this web page I recently discovered: Chester Ralph Blanshan. 

My grandparents talked fondly of "Grandma Buck." I didn't really know who she was until I found her on the web recently--she was Babe's mother's mother, Alzora Celestine Richardson Buck.

Buck and Babe. 1988.

During family get togethers, Grampa Buck and my father would regularly play cribbage. Soon after there was a victor they'd get their guitars and harmonicas out. Beer Barrel Polka, The Wreck of the Old 97, and just to irritate Babe, Buck would sing Grandma's in the Cellar, My Father Has Tuberculosis, and my (and my children's) favorite... a folk song that seems to have been sung by many grandparents with many differently rendered verses and tunes.

Burglar Bold (The Old Maid Song)

Let me tell you a story of a burglar bold, who went to rob a house;

He opened the window and then crept in, as quiet as a mouse;

He looked all around for a place to hide, in the room where the old maid slept;

He thought of the money and jewels she had, as under the bed he crept

The old maid came home 'bout nine-o'clock; "Oh, I'm so tired," she said;

And thinking all was well that night, she never looked under the bed;

She took out her teeth, and her big glass eye, took the hair all off of her head;

Well, the burglar had about seventeen fits as he peeked from under the bed

From under the bed the burglar crept, he was a total wreck;

The old maid she was wide awake, she grabbed him around the neck;

She did not faint nor run away, but said as calmly as a lamb;

"At last my prayers are answered now,... at last I've got a man!"

She pointed a pistol at his head, and very calmly said;

"Now if you do not marry me, I'll blow off the top of your head";

The burglar saw that he was caught, and he had no place to scoot;

He thought of the teeth and the big glass eye,.. and said "For the gosh sakes, shoot!"

Two old Gillson family photos

Thomas and Lorena (Kraft) Gillson and family about 1924.
Back row (left to right): Russell, Pearl, Walter, Helen, Esther, Edwin.

I've been hanging on to these family photos in my email inbox for 5 years! My sister, Sheri, received them from cousin Mike Gillson (Esther's grandson), who has researched the family history more fully. Neither Sheri nor I had ever seen these photos before. Time to put these photos in a more permanent place.

The first is my paternal great-grandparents and great uncles and aunts likely taken in Mankato, Minnesota about 1924 (guessing Helen is about 11 years old). My paternal grandfather is Russell Gillson, though everyone knew him as "Buck." He is the youngest of the boys above. The dates below are mostly from family history, but I've used dates found on the US Census information on the web if different.

As an adult, besides my grandfather, Russell, I only knew aunt Helen and her husband Harold. He made great peanut brittle when he visited!

Thomas Gillson (b. June 14, 1870; m. May 14, 1892; d. May 13, 1942)
Lorena Hulda Dena Kraft Gillson Ballard (b. March 11, 1875; d. January 8, 1957)

Children:
Pearl Lorena Gillson Spear (b. December 18, 1893; m. Leon Spear; d. June 22, 1977)
Esther Florence Gillson Gillson Adkins (b. June 17, 1896; m. 3rd cousin Alfred George Gillson December 6, 1919; m. Adkins July 7, 1928 (annulled); d. August 29, 1977)
Edwin Robert Gillson (b. June 11, 1899; m. Emmaline Sauter December 1947; d. April 8, 1964)
Walter Earl Gillson (b. February 1904; m. Irene O'Brien June 24, 1929 (div. June 19, 1941); m. Eva Roberts; d. June 26, 1948)
Russell Marvin Gillson (b. January 22, 1911; m. Leora Gertrude Blanshan January 19, 1929; d. December 31, 1991)
Violet Gillson (b. March 6, 1912; d. March 16, 1912)
Helen Marcella Gillson Cornwell (b. October 24, 1913; m. Harold Cornwell; d. April 25, 2001)

Then we go back another generation--my grandfather's grandfather!

Robert and Orella (Brooks) Gillson and family about 1887.
Back row (left to right): Ezra, Jane, Emma, Frank, Eliza, Tom.
Front row (left to right): John, Robert, Blanche, Orella. Not shown: Charles.

This photo was also likely taken in Minnesota or Michigan. Dating it is a bit harder, but the 1887 date is based on guessing that Ezra looks to be about 6 years old and John about 11 years old.

Robert George Gillson (b. October 25, 1831; m. Millicent Baxter 1853; m. Orella Brooks; d. November 25, 1924)
Orella Brooks Gillson (b. September 22, 1842; d. July 24, 1914)

Children:
Frank Gillson (b. 1860; d.?)
Charles Gillson (b. March 5, 1862; m. Eva Miller; m. Maggie Margaret O'Brien November 25, 1899; d. September 9, 1932)
Eliza Ann Gillson Johnson Weber (b. October 12, 1865; d. July 25, 1939)
Emma May Gillson McNeil (b. May 4, 1868; m. Calvin Douglas McNeil before May 1919; d. February 20, 1952)
Thomas Gillson (b. June 14, 1869; m. Lorena Dena Kraft May 14, 1892; d. May 13, 1942)
John Rutherford Gillson (b. 1876; m. Cora Hardin September 10, 1897; d. September 29, 1957)
Jane Gillson Trotter (b.?; m. Trotter; d.?)
[Twin (b.?; d. of smallpox in 1870s)]
[Twin (b.?; d. of smallpox in 1870s)]
Ezra Gillson (b. January 31, 1881; d. July 30, 1929)
Blanche Gillson Benewitz (b.?; m. Bill Benewitz; d.?)

Interesting history passed on to Sheri from Mike: "Thomas Gillson's family. He is on the far right. His parents are Orella (Brooks) and Robert Gillson. Orella is supposed to have been 1/2 French and 1/2 Indian (probably Chippewa). But she lied on 4 different federal census forms, giving different names and places of birth so I haven't been able to identify her parents yet. She was born in 1841, most likely in upper Michigan, which was Canada at the time. This would have made her an English citizen and Mike thinks she was an "illegal alien", funny when she was 1/2 native American that she could also be illegal. Robert came over from England with four of his brothers who all settled in the Michigan area. He later moved to Pillager, Minnesota. He was born in 1831 in Buckworth England. He married his childhood sweetheart, but she died at sea [emigrating from England to Nova Scotia] just a couple of months after they were married. Six months after he arrived in Michigan, he married Orella."

Ancestry.com gives Quebec as Orella's birth place, but she was evidently hiding her identity even then. Interesting that I can't find US census information on the younger children.

So I have preserved some family history before it becomes lost and distorted even more. There are some additional photos and stories of my paternal grandparents that I want to share another time.