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February 1, 1999 |
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the lark sparrow at last, and an Iceland gull too |
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February 1 Salisbury Beach elsewhere in Salisbury Newburyport boat ramp
Copyright © 1998, Janet I. Egan |
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The three horned larks were in almost the same spot where I'd seen them yesterday afternoon. They were joined by a large number of herring gulls, ring-billed gulls, and great black backed gulls. Two birders, a man and a woman, were staring out to sea, one with binoculars and one with a scope. I figured they must be looking at something even more interesting than horned larks. About a thousand or more common eiders were gathered in a floating city just to the north of the jetty. I couldn't really count them. When the two other birders looked up from the scopes, I said something inane like "must be like a million eiders out there, huh?" to which they replied "ayup" long pause "we've got an Iceland gull right out there." I whipped the binoculars up and looked in the direction he was pointing. It only took me about 3 seconds to find the Iceland gull. It's all white so pretty easy to spot, and it was just casually floating on the waves not very far off shore. I watched it bob up and down on the waves until it took flight and headed south and west - basically up the river and toward Plum Island. I followed it as long as I could, its being my first Iceland gull. While I was watching the Iceland gull, another car had pulled into the parking lot - more birders. The woman who was driving said she'd seen some Lapland longspurs in a mixed flock with horned larks. Bald eagles too. The people who had told me about the Iceland gull said they'd seen three bald eagles from the boat ramp along with 4 other species of raptors (harrier, redtail, sharpshinned, rough-legged) from the same spot. I was beginning to get a complex about never seeing those bald eagles. Birders are not always this sociable, but these folks had a lively conversation going. Another car pulled in and this lady says "well, I've already got the lark sparrow" as she asked about the Lapland longspurs and the horned larks. My jaw dropped. She was the first person I'd talked to who had actually seen it. So it's still here. Her: "You know the dump road?" As I'm folding up my tripod to go over to the lark sparrow location I overhear the Lapland longspur people talking to the Iceland gull people about how they've already gone to see the wild turkeys off Rt. 62 in someplace or other. They're treating the rare bird alert like a scavenger hunt. I wait in front of the mailbox across the street from the feeder. Another car is parked in front of mine with its occupants doing the same thing. Chickadees. Blue jays. No sparrows. We wait. The car in front of me leaves. I wait some more. Three tree sparrows appear, Then the blue jays scare them and the chickadees into the bushes. There's not a soul at the feeder. A car pulls up, the driver rolls down the window. "Lark sparrow?" "Nope." "I have yet to talk to anybody who's actually see it." "I talked to this lady at the beach who said she saw it here about 20 minutes ago." "Birds!" They leave. I leave. I drove up to the gas station in the center and filled up. The gas gauge was below empty. Somehow, my mind hadn't been on the gas gauge. Freshly fueled, I briefly wondered if I should get some lunch to fuel myself or go back to the last known lark sparrow place immediately. I went back to the spot on the dump road. A man in another car (maybe it was the Iceland gull man, I didn't memorize everybody I'd talked to) gestured wildly pointing at the feeder. I whipped out the binoculars and bingo! Lark sparrow! Right there on the feeder. It's a little bit bigger than a tree sparrow, with distinct white "corners" on its dark tail. This must be an immature one because the rust/black/white patterning in the head isn't really clear - there's lots of fine streaking. Definitely the lark sparrow. While I was looking at the lark sparrow, I heard a voice calling "hello there" so I responded with a hello even though I didn't see the person. I thought she must be in the house whose feeder I was staring at, but she was behind me on the porch of another house. She thought my hello was a question about who owned the house, so walked over to talk to me. She said lots of people come to look at the birds. She called her cat, a nice looking gray tabby wearing a red collar, and said "my kitty's a bird hunter too." (Notice to all sparrows, get the heck out of there.) Hmm, my cat is a bird hunter too, that's why I keep him indoors (well, that and his predilection for dumpster diving). The blue jays scared the smaller birds into the bushes again, so I headed over to the other side of the river to see what I could see. I set up my scope on the Newburyport boat ramp, and stood there watching a flock of about 18 or so common goldeneye diving - hoping maybe one of them would metamorphose into a Barrow's goldeneye. I was in my shirtsleeves and could feel the warm sun on my back. It's amazing what a day of 40 degree weather feels like after a cold spell. People stopped to talk to me about the birds during their daily power walks - for which they were dressed in parkas and mittens - they must've been sweltering if they built up any kind of pace at all. After watching the goldeneyes and a huge flock of buffleheads for awhile, I scanned the sky over the river for bald eagles again. Still none. So, is life still meaningful now that I've found the lark sparrow? You bet it is. |
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