Talk about chasing a bird! This morning, while I was kicking around Reeve's Bogs, Shari texted me that the HEERMAN'S GULL found yesterday in Cape May in absolutely horrific weather, was still being seen and she wanted to go down there as it was a lifer. I have to admit I was kind of hoping it would move on, as I just didn't feel like going down to Cape May and looking for a gull on a beach, and since this bird has apparently been reported all over the east coast from Florida to Massachusetts with stops at Georgia, Rhode Island, and now NJ, maybe it would continue to wander. No such luck so I came home and off we went to its last known location, the park just north of the Ferry Terminal.
Let the chasing begin. As soon as we arrived Bill Boyle told us that the bird was being seen just a little bit north of where we were, so we doubled back a quarter of mile or so. By the time we had parked the car and walked out onto the beach (5 minutes maybe) the bird had been flushed by a dog walker and flown off. No dogs are allowed on the beach from Memorial Day to Labor Day. Check the calendar, today is--yeah Memorial Day. The bird maybe had flown south so back to the park we went and walked up the beach--nothing but Laughing Gulls and Herring Gulls. It was cold, damp, overcast and windy--not Memorial Day weather. Since I didn't want to be there anyway, because this is what I feared would happen, I told Shari my back up plan idea.
We went to Higbee Beach WMA, which we could see across the channel from the terminal but it about a 10 mile drive to get there and walked out to the beginning of the 2nd field. For the last couple of years in the spring and summer a SWAINSON'S WARBLER has been singing in this patch of brush but I've never felt like going down just to listen for a bird even if it was a lifer. I'd never even mentioned it to Shari who was little taken aback when I told her how long it had been coming to Higbee. I played the song 5 or 6 times in the car so we'd both have it fresh in our ears and just when Shari asked me where the spot was, I heard the bird. "That?" she asked. It sang again. "That," I replied. It sang again and again and again. It has a reputation for singing its little heart out. We were standing there listening, hoping it might show when a birder came up and aske if we knew where the Swainson's Warbler was. Before we could answer, he said, "Never mind, I hear it."
There was a little, overgrown path off the main trail and we ducked in there looking for the bird. Like a rail, it sounded like we were right next to it, but like a rail, we could not find it. It was loud though and finally we saw a bird zip from the right to left and the song continued to the left. I wouldn't say we'd seen the bird but we'd seen the bird's movement. However you view it, or hear it, we had a life bird. It might be the first Consolation Life Bird we've ever listed.
We went off to have lunch and while we were eating, I texted Steve, who I knew was coming down for the gull and told him we had just missed it by thirty seconds. He hadn't seen it yet either, was lunching, and was going to look for it again. As we were leaving, he texted me that the bird had been seen at Franklin Avenue maybe a quarter mile north of where we'd been in the morning. Again, it was about a 10 mile drive from where we were.
When we got to Franklin Avenue we ran into another birder we know and she said the bird had flown north. "Follow her," I told Shari. We drove about a mile before we all decided we'd gone too far when I got a text from Steve: Now the bird was at Browning. South of where we were, so we had overshot the mark. Down to Browning we drove, parked, walked to the beach, saw nothing. Started walking south on the beach with me carrying the scope and the beachgoers asking us if we'd seen "the bird." "Not yet," I grumbled and in truth, I'd given up on seeing it, as is required by the Second Law of Birding. I came to a bulwark with about a two foot drop onto the beach and I was thinking about how I was going to get Shari and her cane down it. I plunked down my scope, saw 3 gulls naked eye, got them in the scope and knew I didn't have to get her any farther down the beach. Assuming she could get to the scope before the bird took off again. Up until then, I didn't have much invested in seeing the bird, but now that I had it, for the few moments it took Shari to "run" up the beach, the anxiety level was high and banging. "Look in the scope, look in the scope." "I got it." Whew. Just then I got another text from Steve: "Now Roslyn St." I texted back: Got it!
Of course, there was no need to be anxious about losing the bird. After flying up and down the Delaware Bay coast line, now the bird just settled and sat there like a statue as birders north and south scoped it, bino'd it, photographed it, and texted about it. Steve found us and we fist bumped. I was pleasantly surprised how well we were able to see it; I had imagined trying to tease it out of huge, mixed flock of gulls, but luckily it seemed to keep pretty much to itself, even when surrounded by a cohort of Laughing Gulls. And while I'm certainly no larophile, I will concede it is a good looking gull, all gray on the body with a while head and just a dash of gray on the crown and standout bright red bill.
It is pretty unusual for Shari and me to get two life birds in one day in New Jersey. The last time it happened was four years ago. So the moral of this story is: Pessimism, grumpiness, and a bad attitude pay off!
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