The first thing that catches my attention at the Umatilla National Wildlife Refuge are screaming frogs. I am walking, with gung-ho spirit, on a trail by reclaimed wetlands, where frogs own waterfront property. When they spot me, they emit tiny screams and dive for cover. I check to make sure I am not having a bad hair day.

The part of the refuge I’m visiting is west of Irrigon. To get there, drive Highway 730 west until Paterson Ferry Road. Turn north. In a mile or two you’ll reach a parking area west of the highway that provides access to a short trail.

Just north, up the road, a driving loop offers access to two other short trails: a sand trail to the river and a trail reclaimed from a long-abandoned paved road.

The refuge is mostly flat, big sky country. It’s off the highway and eerily quiet.

Well, there are the business noises of hundreds of birds and frogs. The frogs’ group panic is unnerving. Thank goodness for the calming, familiar songs of mourning doves and red-winged blackbirds.

Just when I’m beginning to relax, and nearly in full decompression mode, a great blue heron bolts from cover, chased by a Brewer’s blackbird with a Napoleon complex.

The gravel footpath curves around the east end of a reclaimed lake. After a half-mile, it dead ends. On the way back, I see a turtle sunning on a log. Dragonflies dart near shore, and a napping egret reluctantly flies away, complaining lustily, startled by me, the human alarm clock.

Later, north of the restored wetlands, I find a circle tour. After driving through a broad open plain, I veer off to a parking area that offers a short, sandy hike to the Columbia River.

The river here flows languidly with an occasional barge floating by.

Later, I rejoin the loop road and find another trailhead. The Heritage Trail heads arrow-straight. No gee-whiz views. No waterfalls or mountain views. I go anyway.

With grim determination and displaying the same foot speed as a daisy, I hike the reclaimed paved road. A fading painted line runs down the middle. Sagebrush encroaches on the sides. The slog is interrupted briefly by the scent of wild rose.

A side trail leads to a hunting blind. I arrive in time to witness today’s main attraction: an osprey repeatedly diving for fish. Apparently, the osprey still has training wheels as brunch remains elusive.

Later, I spot a bald eagle soaring in the updrafts.

Preserved for our enjoyment, but especially for the health of our feathered friends, the refuge offers a fine place to get away from the hubbub.

As always, leave only footprints and take only pictures. Whether in town or on the trail, try to leave your surroundings better than you found them.

Preserved for our enjoyment, but especially for the health of our feathered friends,

the refuge offers a fine place to get away from the hubbub