THIS WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN! An Unlikely Duo Goes Head-to-Head

The weather works in mysterious ways. Oregon is certainly in no shape for me to be rooting against a much-needed bout of rain, but with ambitious camping plans we booked for this weekend our fingers were crossed that the worst of it would hold off just a little bit longer. It was not to be; Oregon's southern coast will have to wait. We tried to find a last-minute alternative, but between the storms to the west of us, and the wildfires to the east, we decided it best to sit tight. The skies mostly cleared up in the afternoon, so we were able to fit our shorebirding in after all -- just much closer to home.

Shorebird flock - Western and Pectoral Sandpipers

The sweet lovers' embrace of a couple of star-crossed orthopterans

Damselfly glamour shot

We spent parts of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday at Ankeny NWR reveling in migrant Pectoral Sandpipers, Semipalmated Plovers, and assorted peeps. Practically everything else we tried to turn into a Baird's Sandpiper, but we just couldn't make the name fit convincingly. The real highlight of the weekend, though, was a collaboration between two birds you'd never imagine seeing together, even while they share a home.

Semipalmated Plover

Pectoral and Western Sandpipers

Pectoral Sandpiper

I was crouched down inspecting a bug, when I noticed a form out on a muddy patch of shoreline that hadn't been there a minute earlier. "Rail… rail… Virginia Rail" I sputtered. We manage to (rarely) see these from time to time, but like any rail, they're more often heard than seen, and this was the most open we've caught one yet. A few seconds later and it was joined by another super secretive species, a Sora.

It's uncommon enough to see one of these skulkers out from behind their usual dense cover, but to see both side by side is practically unfathomable, like bigfoot sidling up to a unicorn. The two lingered together for nearly a minute, picking at the substrate like old friends. The Sora left first, and then came back shortly after for an encore. For all I know this was one in a long series of regular inter-rail check-ins, but truly it seemed like something that will NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN. In fact, I did hear from one researcher on Twitter who studies rails, and she told me that she's never seen a Sora commingle with a Virginia Rail. So there you go.

Tybee Island Birding

In south Florida, we lived 10 minutes from the beach. In Savannah, we live 10 minutes from the beach. It's probably best to chalk up the parallel to happy coincidence, but Maureen and I do consider ourselves beach people. We're not often interested in going to the beach qua beach, but you can nevertheless expect to see us there every couple of weeks. Instead of catching waves and laying out in the sun, our weekend hegiras have a decidedly different (and predictable) character: they're all about the birds. And Tybee Island has some awesome birds.

An assortment of typical Tybee birds -- Willets, American Oystercatchers, Black Skimmers, Ring-billed Gull

American Oystercatchers

It also has awesome numbers of awesome birds. It might be an exaggeration to say that we've watched the sky darken with a cloud of Black Skimmers, but only just. To have 800 of them circle close over your heads may not mean watching the sun get blotted out of the sky, but the experience certainly eclipses any ordinary day at the beach (wordplay!).

A LOT of Black Skimmers

 
The Skimmers usually congregate in a tightly packed group at a sharp elbow in the shoreline. Occasionally, they'll rise up all together for no apparent reason, fly a couple of laps, and then settle back down as a unit. Other times, it's clear why they've risen up: a rascally scamp sprinting into their midst, or a bird-blind couple blithely strolls through them on their way from Point A to Point B. Both situations are annoying, but it's hard to get too upset when I know I've probably been guilty of both at different stages of my life. 

  

On one recent outing a family was having professional photos taken, and as we approached the elbow the patriarch would rush the birds and hurry back to his family in order to capture the skimmers swirling about in the background. It seemed a fairly indecent thing to do, and fortunately it stopped as soon as we set up scope. I will say this about non-birders, though -- they usually won't go out of their way to spook birds that others are taking an active interest in. 

 

And here's a bird we were definitely interested in: a Piping Plover. This lonely little guy represents 1/8000th of all Piping Ploverdom. He's hung around all winter with nary another Piping to be seen, but plenty of Semipalmated Plovers to make him feel different and awkward. Or not. I mean, look at him -- he's ADORABLE! Who could ostracize that?

Piping Plover taking his lunch to-go

Yanking a hapless invertebrate out of the ground

Standing his ground against a Sanderling

Mostly Semipalmated Plovers, with some Western Sandpipers thrown in for good measure

Apalachicola: Shorebirds

Last month we took advantage of the long Labor Day weekend and drove north to the Florida panhandle. The experience was fairly epic, as far as weekend trips go, and there's just too much to share in a single post. Rather than recount what happened, day by day, we decided that best way to highlight everything the area had to offer is dividing the posts up by topic - starting with shorebirds.

Forster's Tern scouting for fish

Our campsite was located looking over Saint Vincent Sound, just off the Gulf of Mexico. On our first morning we walked the short distance from our tent to the water and found a Spotted Sandpiper bobbing its rump up and down the shore. There were also Ring-billed and Laughing Gulls perched on the boat dock, as an Osprey fished and a Bald Eagle flew overhead.

Black Skimmer skimming

Our plan for the day was to head up Cape San Blas to St. Joseph Peninsula State Park, but since this was our first time in the area, we were also open to do a little exploring. Driving up Cape San Blas, we found a public park on the beach and decided to check it out. Being early in the morning, the beach was mostly absent of bathers, and there was only there was only the occasional jogger to disturb the shorebirds. Right away we saw Ruddy Turnstones, Willets, and Sanderlings, in additional to flying Black Skimmers, Brown Pelicans, and Forster's Terns. 

Flock of Black Skimmers

The main attraction for us, though, was the variety of plovers, since our life lists were missing many of these. Most numerous were the Semipalmated plovers, but we also found several Piping Plovers, a single Snowy Plover, and a couple of Black-bellied Plovers towering over them all.

Semipalmated Plover



To our amusement, one tough little Sanderling had apparently claimed that particular stretch of beach for himself, and vigorously defended it by charging at all trespassing Sanderlings with head lowered until they flew off. It seemed that they kept returning, though, and he was forced to fend off the same few offenders repeatedly. 

Snowy Plover in flight

Snowy Plover coming right for us!

But one of our big goals of the trip was to find American Oystercatchers. We heard them calling early on the first morning from our campsite, but they were located in an oyster bed well beyond a reedy area blocking our view. But we eventually did find some on several occasions later on. Driving down S.R. 30, we pulled over and investigated a man-made jetty that looked promising, and did manage to see our first Oystercatcher. Unfortunately, it was much too far away for good pictures, and we were never able to see them much closer when we passed by this area on the following days.

Our best look at an American Oystercatcher

On the drive back home we kept our eyes on the shore as best we could, looking for shorebirds, and hoping get a better look at some Oystercatchers than we'd been able to manage. We spotted a pair just off the road within the first hour, but there was nowhere to safely pull off. I kept driving for another few hundred feet past them before there a suitable place to park, which turned out to be the lot for a public beach. We got our gear and ran out as quickly as we could, but what we found was a disaster unfolding in slow motion. An older couple was taking a stroll along the water, completely oblivious to all of the birds they disturbed on the way. 

If we ran and tried to divert them, we would have risked flushing the entire group of shorebirds. If we did nothing, there was a slight chance that the people would either turn back on their own or that the Oystercatchers simply avoid them and stay nearby. After what seemed like an eternity, the couple finally reached them and scared them off entirely. Nevertheless, we couldn't be too disappointed because the Oystercatchers did lead us to our first ever Marbled Godwits. 

Marbled Godwit getting a running start



Marbled Godwit about to take off