By Anne Hansen

I’ve been invited to write about my art, given that I’m participating in the annual James Bay Art Walk (Sept 5 & 6, 2009). More artists will be featured in the coming months.

It’s funny how life is sometimes. I would have been incredulous if, five years ago, I was told I’d move to the west coast. Further, that I would become enamored with a particular bird species to the extent that I’d produce nearly 100 funky, folksy paintings celebrating their likeness.

That I would then slither around on frigid, windy, wave-swept rocks for hours at a time, taking pictures of them with my new-fangled (“I’ll-never-go-digital”) digital camera. That my daily activities would come to revolve around their presence or absence on the rocky promontories near where I live. That I would pray for cloudy, dog-free conditions, ideal for wildlife photography at the tideline.

And that, in turn, I would decline social engagements on account of my new “affliction”. “Not tonight, dear. I’m painting”.

Oystercatchers, that is.

All of the above became true shortly after I had the opportunity to move from Ontario to Victoria in July 2007. Perhaps my new calling in life isn’t all that surprising, given that I inherited birdwatching from my parents, and at times have been a prolific painter.

Upon seeing my first oystercatcher, it was love at first sight. It was on the beach at Holland Point. This striking bird was flopping around a hunk of brilliant green seaweed back-lit by the setting sun. Water droplets were flying all over the place, and the light was shining through its brilliant bill. The experience was intoxicating for me.

I have a soft spot for people who make me laugh, so it follows that I like funny birds. If one seeks comic relief, look no further than the Black Oystercatcher. Who else goes around with a long carrot of a bill and big three-ringed eyes of red, yellow and black? Who else has knobby knees, long skinny pink legs, and feet that even have visible toenails? Certainly not starlings.

You could say that I have a crush on oystercatchers, and I’m advertising the fact in my body of art.

That doesn’t mean I’m a scientific authority on these birds. There are people in the naturalist clubs who have been around these parts much longer than I, who are far better qualified on matters of oystercatcher biology. However, that doesn’t prevent me from having a visual and visceral relationship with these beach clowns.

One thing for sure is that the oystercatcher is somewhat misnamed. Mollusks, particularly limpets, form the bulk of their diet. They also eat worms, crabs, barnacles, and occasionally small fish. They use their chisel-shaped bill to pry or stab their prey. Apparently individual oystercatchers may be “hammerers” or “stabbers,” depending on their schooling.

Oystercatchers are very monogamous over many years, and are faithful to their site. There are about ten species of oystercatchers worldwide. The black oystercatcher (haematopus bachmani) that inhabits our west coast is generally nonmigratory, although those in the extreme north may move southward after breeding.

“Oysties” aren’t exactly swimmers, although I have seen one become waterborne by a surprise wave that compelled him to swim a few strokes. At rest, they are often seen on one leg, with their head and bill tucked backwards. Recently I witnessed three oysties simultaneously hop forward on one leg to avoid a rogue wave.

As a naturalist, I am concerned about the fate of our wild coast. The oystercatcher thrives along relatively undisturbed shoreline from Alaska to California. The habitat of countless seashore creatures is threatened by rampant clear-cutting, luxury tourist development, fish farming, and the spectre of oil tankers plying the jagged, shipwrecked Vancouver Island coast. Our urban oystercatchers in Victoria aren’t helped by unleashed dogs.

Art skeptics might wonder how long I can keep up painting oystercatchers. My loyalty to my subject matter remains intact. I'm working on Oystercatcher painting #90. When I get to #100, I will re-evaluate my subject matter ... and paint more oystercatchers (or towhees).

Oystercatchergirl Anne Hansen. Photo by Kevin Neish.