Nature Note #107: Easter Weekend

Happy Easter all! I was up in Massachusetts this weekend visiting with my family and then the rest of the time with my girlfriend, Alison, and her family. As of this post, I got five year birds for my year listing project (I'm hoping to break 223 species this year) and got some fantastic photos of our escapade as well.

My girlfriend works as the coastal waterbird monitor at Allen's Pond Wildlife Sanctuary in South Dartmouth where she monitors and assists with the protection of endangered shorebirds such as Piping Plovers (Charadrius melodus) and Least Terns (Sternula antillarum). The terns haven't shown up yet, but the plovers have, and they were busy courting and setting up scrapes when we arrived. We participated in a Saturday morning bird walk with several members of the Paskamansett Bird Club on Little Beach and the nearby marshland. As we left, we walked through a small field with nest boxes erected for the bluebirds and returning Tree Swallows (Tachycineta bicolor). The latter zipped over the grass and stonewalls, twittering with glee.

As a group, we headed down Little Beach Road that bordered nearby marshland, tidal pools, and low bushes. As we reached the first pool, Red-winged Blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus) sang and chipped in the marsh grass, while Song Sparrows (Melospiza melodia) pitched in higher notes. We spied a small group of Greater Yellowlegs (Tringa melanoleuca) with a smaller looking peep. For those of you that are confused, I don't mean "peep" as in the marshmallow peeps that we get inundated with during month of April before mysteriously disappearing back into the shadows of yesteryear. No, "peeps" are a birding term for small sandpipers who say "peep" as their main call with pitch and tone often distinguishing the similar looking species. Despite having taken several blurry photos of the bird with the yellowlegs, closer analysis (*cough cough, guesswork more like) led me to the conclusion that instead of being a Semipalmated Sandpiper (Calidris pusilla) as the group had decided at the time, but was instead a Solitary Sandpiper (T. solitaria). I based this assumption off of the bird's dark upper-parts, partially visible white eye-ring, and pale throat patch and underparts. 

After that shorebird conundrum, we moved on to the large bay that separated the houses on the road nearby from Little Beach Road and the nearby ocean. The bay is saltwater and had many common estuary species such as American Black Ducks (Anas rubripes), Red-breasted Mergansers (Mergus serrator), Buffleheads (Bucephala albeola), gulls, and Great Egrets (Ardea alba). More sparrows and blackbirds conversed in the bushes as we neared the beach where the plovers lay in wait. On nearby nest platforms, pairs of Ospreys (Pandion haliaetus) took off and landed after searching the surrounding waters for their fishy prey. I watched as one bird was mobbed by four gulls trying to steal its catch, twisting and turning in the air, trying to match each others tricks and sneak attacks.

"Whatchu lookin' at?"

As we reached the limits of the sanctuary, we spotted the first of the Piping Plovers (Charadrius melodus) that use the beach as a breeding site from spring into early summer. These sparrow-sized shorebirds migrate from their wintering grounds in Florida and the Caribbean in March and arrive in early April to establish territories and attract mates. The males do so by creating scrapes in the ground and will make many over the course of the courting period in an attempt to woo a female. As they prefer the drier portions of the beach and dunes, fencing is put up along with signs alerting beach goers to the presence of the birds in the hopes that they will avoid the area. However, another bird was flushed into the open area of the beach. Its presence here so late in the season was a complete and utter surprise.

Large. White. Owl.

It being the middle of April in Massachusetts didn't seem to deter this Snowy Owl's (Bubo scandiacus) presence. Then again, owls don't generally utilize calendars as they are muggle technology and instead opt to use the solar calendar of the wizarding world instead. As a result, the lengthening days and white sand beaches might have convinced the owl that with the winter weather New England has had this past season, hanging around might not be a terrible option. We may never know as these polar owls aren't that talkative anyway.

Despite the strange appearance of this winter invader on a beach in April, what was stranger was that a Piping Plover decided that sitting near Harry Potter's mail carrier would be a really cool idea! It made for a cool shot when I noticed it later, but one could only question that plover's sanity.

We headed up the beach onto some marshy trails to try and scout for some other species. While shorebirds were scant in number, signs of Great Egrets and gulls abounded. As we passed the flooded estuary, I noted the footprints of these elegant, yet timid fisherman in the muddy floor of the marsh. With their long necks either held in tightly or extended in strange arcs, they are the closest thing to abstract art that I can think of.

"Put your best foot forward."

With the marsh surveyed, we headed back to Little Beach to look for more signs of plovers. While hard to see when stationary, they moved around the fenced zones on skittering legs, as we walked past them. As the group followed the main guide, I stayed back with Alison to assist with the search for fresh scrapes and courting pairs. Given that Alison has way, way more experience with nest searching and finding than I, she obviously found way more than I would have. Besides, I'm easily distracted by other bird life and would probably have a hard time focusing on one species given the richness of birds and other wildlife that can be found in the area. We were fortunate to see some mating plovers on the way back however. The male's display involves foot stomping behind the female while puffing his chest out. Besides looking adorably ridiculous, he must look impressive to the female, but she was pointed the wrong way for visuals. This wasn't a deterrent for him as he soon got the message and mounted her.

"Stomp, stomp, stomp..."

"My love, we must make haste!"

Mating ritual complete.

Birds weren't the only surprises on the beach this Saturday. I found a large insect exoskeleton on the beach which clearly didn't belong there and found out later that it was a Giant Waterbug (Lethocerus americanus). Lauren, who lead the shorebird walk, suspected that it may have been washed out of the pond (Allen's Pond perhaps?) and onto the beach where it had expired. We'll probably never know for sure.

With that slightly creepy end to the post, I only hope next weekend, while probably less eventful will have just as many photos as this one that has just past. I'm so fortunate to have so many people to love and visit this weekend despite the distances we are from one another. It keeps me going in harder times and reminds me of the joy and love I'm so fortunate to have and will always hold dear. Thank you to all those I saw this weekend and I hope I can get to see you all again soon.