By Kristine Crandall

The yellow-breasted chat was teasing me, enticing me to follow and try and see him. I felt so close, the whistle echoing against the wall of cliffs. Thirty seconds later I heard him way up the Santa Clara River. I walked along the trail for a few minutes, getting closer, even closer…It was briefly quiet before I realized he was up beyond the next bend. Worn out, but not disappointed, I turned around and hiked out. This same pattern has repeated across many summer hikes here. They merge into one.

Photo: Attribution: Jim Conrad, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

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