By Bob Krauss
Advertiser Columnist

I think I've learned something about terrorism from kolea, the aristocratic snowbirds that spend summers in Alaska and winters in Hawai'i.

More than 20 of them hang out on three grassy fields between Date Street and Kaimuki High School along lower Manoa Stream. I count them when I walk on the cinder track in the middle field. There I was at about 8 a.m. Saturday, March 27, striding up the cinder track.

The male kolea were in their elegant plumage, having put on their tuxedos in preparation for the flight to Alaska in late April. They're also putting on weight because it takes a lot of energy to fly nonstop for 2,000 miles.

Suddenly, a male shrieked "eeeek, eeeek, eeeek" and took off. This is not unusual. Kolea are very private. If you get too close, they fly away, usually circle and land a little farther off. But this time several more kolea screamed "eeeek, eeeek" and gunned their motors.

Before you could say Alaska, the whole kit and caboodle was flapping away. It's impossible to count so many in the air, but I tried. There had to be around 30, circling the fields in a flock.

After a couple of turns they headed over Manoa Stream for the mountains, roughly north, and disappeared in the distance. It seemed very early to be leaving for Alaska, but maybe they were on a practice flight.

So I turned my attention to a father and his son flying some spiffy remote-control model airplanes over by the high school. The planes silently landed and took off, soared and dipped. Then I realized the kolea were overhead again.

They were higher up, flying in a wider circle. I counted about the same number. They made a turn or two and headed off toward Diamond Head and disappeared. But a minute later, I saw them again flying north, then south in an erratic manner, finally veering east and disappearing for the last time into the sun.

By this time I was excited. Could I be witnessing a first in kolea history? Were they taking off for Alaska a month early? Were they checking out their global satellite positions before setting a course? After all, we've been having very unsettled weather lately.

However, the kolea at Ala Wai Park were still in their normal places on all the playing fields. On Sunday, the kolea were back at Kaimuki High School. I pondered on this mystery all weekend, and when I got to work on Monday I sat right down to e-mail Dr. Wally Johnson, the world authority on the behavior of kolea, at Montana State University in Bozeman.

Within an hour, Dr. Johnson answered back: "What you saw is certainly not associated with migration, which is nearly a month off. Perhaps the model airplanes had them spooked with thoughts of an aerial predator in the vicinity."

I guess humans are a lot like kolea. When we've been hurt by terrorists, as we were on 9/11, we tend to get spooked. It's easy to lead us into irrational behavior. We fly off to war like a flock of kolea.