Journal of a Sabbatical

November 6, 2000

certifiable

Today's Bird Sightings:
Plum Island
gadwall (13)
long-billed dowitcher (3)
greater yellowlegs (3)
mallard (8)
Canada goose (65)
northern shrike (1)
northern harrier (1)
green-winged teal (4)
American black duck (22)
herring gull (8)
American wigeon (2)
mourning dove (1)

Today's Reading: Circling the Sacred Mountain by Robert Thurman and Tad Wise, Autumn from the Journal of Henry David Thoreau edited by H.G.O. Blake

Cooped up all morning waiting for the carpet cleaning guy, calming Wilbur while the carpet cleaning guy was here, and waiting for the carpet to dry enough for me to walk on it I was thrilled to go out to do a few minor errands. But minor errands just didn't do it for me. I spontaneously drove to Plum Island to see what birds I could see despite wearing only a flannel shirt over my T-shirt and having only the binoculars (not camera and not odd hard to work scope) with me. It was gray, very gray. The gray sky - have I mentioned that it was gray? - hung low over my head and felt a bit like it would crush me.

There were some ducks and some shorebirds at the salt pannes but I couldn't for the life of me recognize them in the light that was available, not to mention they were kind of far away for binoculars.

I had better luck at the north pool overlook. Way better luck. Right off the bat I spotted three long-billed dowitchers. My first this year and my first ever on the island. They were surrounded by gadwalls and a few green-winged teal. Just as I was looking them up in the book to make sure they really are long-billed dowitchers as opposed to short-billed dowitchers (no the bill length really isn't what distinguishes them, especially when there's no short-billed around for comparison) a carload of very serious birders with big scopes arrived and one of them exclaimed "I've got a good bird."

A good bird, for those not familiar with birder-speak, is one that's uncommon in that particular place or that particular season. One that's not so easy to get for the year list. So like, no matter how many beautiful gadwalls are around, the gadwall is not a "good bird" because gadwalls are supposed to be here at this season. You can pretty much count on finding them.

Anyway, the person exclaiming "good bird" was not looking at the pool at all, hence not noticing the long-billed dowitchers. She was looking out over the field to the west, toward the dike. I glanced up to see what was there but didn't see anything. I heard somebody else say something about a shrike. Hmm, a northern shrike would be a good bird. I couldn't contain myself. I asked "Have you got a shrike? I've been looking for a northern shrike for a week!" So that is exactly the good bird they were exclaiming over. I moved over to that side of the overlook and picked up the shrike in my binoculars pretty easily. It was sitting on the ground - not the first place I'd look for a shrike - but it quickly flew up to the top of a tree - a more shrike-like perch.

Meanwhile, the serious birders were looking at the pool. They mentioned the long-billed dowitchers and I rattled off "3 long-billed dowitchers, a greater yellowlegs, gadwalls and green-winged teal." Well, I hadn't noticed the teal had left. All these serious birders are telling each other that it's all gadwalls, nothing small enough to be a teal, they're all the same size. Hunh? I look. No teal. So now these people must think I'm crazy - imagining teal.

Of course, I am crazy. I am standing out in the freezing cold with a stiff wind blowing in nothing but a flannel shirt and jeans. I don't even have a hat or gloves. I'm shivering. They're all in winter jackets with hats and gloves like normal people should be. Not me. I'm clearly certifiable.

The serious birders leave to move on to the next stop. I hang around for awhile watching the dowitchers. Four little green-winged teal paddle out from amidst the grass. They were there all along! I didn't hallucinate them, they just found better browsing in the weeds.

Despite being underdressed and scopeless, I decide to walk out on the Hellcat dike to see what I can see. By this time the cloud cover is so heavy it's practically dark out. All along the dike small yarrow plants shine like beacons. The bright white really stands out in what little light there is. It's striking. I wish I'd brought the camera. [Above picture of yarrow taken 11/07/00 and retroactively inserted.] A flock of sanderlings flies right at me, their pale under parts gleaming like the yarrow, oddly bright. They're noisy too. Greater yellowlegs, who are also noisy birds, are calling each to each also so there's quite a shorebird din. It's one of those moments where you stand still and time stops in the face of the magnificence of nature. Yarrow and sanderlings transform a gray November day into a memorable natural moment.

The serious people with the scopes came and went from the dike without looking at the yarrow or the sanderlings. I resisted the urge to tell them the teal were real.