There’s no regret over great egret

Activists’ alarm spurs action that saves migratory bird’s population; habitat’s restored, too

By Jonathan Fine

Pamplin Media Group, Sep 11, 2007, Updated Oct 30, 2009

People made welcome, too

As the variety and amount of wildlife at Smith and Bybee have increased, Metro has worked to enhance public access. A paved trail featuring two viewing platforms meanders through the area, while more recent improvements include a canoe launch and a parking lot with interpretive displays.

“I think the work Metro has done at Smith and Bybee is phenomenal,” Sallinger says. “It’s a great example of what restoration efforts can do in an urban ecosystem. It’s also a reminder that wildlife really does use this area, and if we provide for them, the results are pretty dramatic.”

While Smith and Bybee provides a living laboratory for local scientists and wildlife professionals, many local residents know it simply as a good place to experience the natural world without having to leave the city.

Indeed, Smith and Bybee is a distinctly urban refuge, surrounded by industry and a decommissioned landfill. Air traffic from Portland International Airport flies overhead. The wetlands’ ability to thrive in this challenging environment is a significant part of its appeal.

Birder spies more than 167

On a recent weekday morning, amateur bird-watcher Andy Frank walked along the Interlakes Trail at Smith and Bybee. The roar of truck traffic on North Marine Drive faded away as he went deeper into the wetlands’ interior.

“The sense of space and the openness here are just wonderful,” said Frank, who visits the wetlands about twice a week to count waterfowl and shorebirds and then report his findings on a local birding listserv. Last year, he counted 549 great egrets here at their peak in late October.

Frank set up his spotting scope at the edge of Bybee Lake and slowly panned across the congregation of great egrets basking in the early sun.

“One hundred and sixty-seven,” he murmured, jotting the number in a small notebook. Then he noticed several more, perched together in a small tree just beyond the water’s edge, against the distant backdrop of Forest Park and the gothic towers of the St. Johns Bridge.

He added these birds to his tally and scanned the old landfill — now a tranquil meadow — for more spots of bright white in the tall grasses.

Frank smiled, saying, “Considering we’re in the city of Portland right now, this is pretty cool.”