Just when I think there is
nothing new to say about spending a day at the beach not
seeing piping plovers, I do something I have never done
before. Well, OK, there are other proofs that I am an
idiot but not in the plover warden context. Must be the
heat, haze, and humidity (hhh as the weatherman calls
it.)
I know they adjust the boundaries
of the closed beach area in July depending on who has
hatched and fledged. Last week, at the beginning of July,
I remembered to ask if the south boundary had changed.
No, it hadn't because there were some unfledged chicks
between lots 6 and 7. Today I was on auto-pilot on
account of not yet having taken so much as a sip of the
fabulous dark roast of the day from Plum Island Coffee
Roasters, which I'd just bought. I always warn my bosses
and co-workers in high-tech-land that I have never hired
anybody I've interviewed before 9:00 AM and in general
I'm not real useful until fully caffeinated -- so we have
the before 9:00 AM syndrome and the lack of caffeine
syndrome as well as another one of those hhh days this
summer seems to throw at us when it's not raining.
Somehow I get the idea in my head that the boundary has
changed to lot 7. I don't ask, I just auto-pilot on down
there.
There's no place to park at lot 7.
Hmmm. I'll just park at Sandy Point and walk. I start
walking. I get to the boardwalk from lot 7 and it finally
dawns on me that the boundary is at lot 6. Here is where
the idiot factor comes in. I decide to keep walking. It
is approximately 6 tenths of a mile from the border
between Sandy Point State Reservation and PRNWR to lot 6.
This might have been OK had I not been carrying my beach
chair, the plover warden backpack, my own little tote bag
with my binoculars/camera/bug spray/sunscreen, and ...
pause dramatically for effect ... my precious cup of
coffee. I'm walking in soft sand with greenheads buzzing
around me. Suddenly I am on my knees in wet sand,
spilling coffee onto my shirt, pants, tote bag and
whatever while a greenhead gets a good bloody grip on the
tender part of my hand between the thumb and forefinger.
The same hand that is holding the coffee. Now I've got
coffee and blood running down my hand onto my clothes and
equipment. I take a sip of the coffee. It's still hot and
there's still plenty left. I get up without spilling
anymore coffee. Thankfully there is no blood in the
coffee.
Only now do I radio the gatehouse
that I am only 2/3 of the way to lot 6 from Sandy Point
and am parked at Sandy Point. I do not reveal the rest of
the story. Unit 61 tells me I have a perfectly good
assigned parking space at lot 6. I point out that it is
silly for me to walk back to Sandy Point given how close
I am to lot 6 so I'll keep going. Unit 3 offers to give
me a ride back to my car when I'm done. i feel like a
complete idiot. I am a complete idiot.
So, I get to where I'm supposed to
be and have the least busy shift I've had so far all
season. This is even less busy than the freezing cold
days in April. I've covered myself with bug spray but the
greenheads bite me anyway. They concentrate on my right
ankle for some reason. Dozens of them. My ankle is not
only bloody but sore and swollen. Weird. Guess I'm gonna
need that ride back.
I watch people do the dance of the
greenheads. I watch two women attempt to eat their beach
snack of a fruit plate while half submerged in the water
to avoid the greenheads. I watch slices of watermelon
fallen from the fruit plate move back and forth on the
waves. I watch two adult great black back gulls chase off
an immature great black back who keeps begging them for
food while they completely ignore a Bonaparte's gull and
a herring gull that are even closer to their precious
prey than the immature great black back -- but they
aren't begging for food. All this I watch as greenheads
gnaw my ankle.
At the end of my shift, I radio for
a ride. Unit 61 says he's right at lot 6, so he'll give
me a lift back to Sandy Point. When we get back to my car
I open the trunk for 61 to put my beach chair in. There
are a few of those cardboard bands that Plum Island
Coffee Roasters puts on the cups to keep you from burning
your hand scattered in my trunk having fallen off various
cups. Unit 61 says "I see you like the Roasters' coffee
too!"