 Lifer Time Last Wednesday I finished my column somewhat early so I hot-footed it down to Skaday Bridge with several bird boxes in the car. (Earlier this year I noticed a long stretch of fence line along the edge of a wet field. The field was without the benefit of bird boxes.) I figured that no cattle would be roaming around the lake side of the fence because the land was so marshy. Cattle are always a key factor when hanging bird boxes. They can wreak havoc when they nose or rub against a box causing it to break or twist off its moorings. Perhaps the marshy fence line could answer the question of what to do with the 8 or so low-budget bird boxes lying around my woodshed. (By low-budget I mean that the boxes lack checkout flaps or hinged tops. The boxes are also made from various thicknesses of wood which sometimes can prove to be a challenge during a hanging.) I arrived at Skaday Bridge towards the end of a sunny blustery day. First I scoped various birds walking around Horse Lake shoreline, next I peered at the birds further out on Horse Lake then I heard the siren call of the empty fence line. I quickly hung a pair of boxes then stood for a time pondering my dastardly deed. I half expected someone to stop and ask what I was doing, but rationalized that no one would care if a few bird boxes were wired to what seemed a rather old fence. I noticed that last year’s crop of reed canary grass, now flattened by winter snows, proliferated on the other side of the fence. Reed canary grass is a fast growing grass that can reach a height of 8 feet in the course of one summer; and Tree Swallows won’t use a nest box if the hole is obscured by branches or grass. However, I reasoned, nesting would be long over by the time the grass grew 8 feet tall - so I hung two more boxes. I waited to see if there would be an immediate response to my offerings but all was quiet. A few of the Barn Swallows that nested under Skaday Bridge flew over, but no Tree Swallows appeared. I decided to set up my scope on the north side of the fields before going back home. So I drove around to the north side of Horse Lake and began scanning the fields with my binoculars. There appeared to be a Lesser Yellowlegs wading in the mud quite far from where I stood. Something about it seemed out of character so I steadied the binoculars and stared. Did it have mud on its chest and flanks? It was time to get out the scope! The scope didn’t lie. There was a shorebird on the mud, possibly a Plover, and it was in the company of a Lesser Yellowlegs. Interestingly enough the Plover was much larger than the Yellowlegs. I steadied my scope. It had to be a Plover I have never before seen. I pulled out the bird book and flipped to the Plovers. The bird did not resemble any of the illustrations but, because it was spring, intermediate plumages might be the order of the day. I turned once more to the scope and gleaned a few further details. The under tail feathering was snow white, and blotches of black occurred down the throat and on to the flanks and mid-body (The black would probably become more intense as the bird gained breeding plumage.) According to my best guess I was looking at a Black-bellied Plover - a bird which I’d never seen before. I had to get closer, so I climbed the fence and approached the bird until stopped by the flooded field. I studied the bird for some time. And when my 15 power scope lens could garner no more details, I headed home. It may have been supper time, but I needed more witnesses to verify my sighting … and perhaps a stronger scope. I phoned Tim and Mike and told them what I’d seen. Both wanted to come out but both had obligations. A short time later they phoned back to say they were on their way. We convened at the fence line and I was relieved to see that my bird was still walking the mud flats. After a few cursory glances through Mike’s more powerful scope we realized that we still had to get closer. We had just stepped over the fence and were scurrying toward the mystery bird when another car pulled up and stopped near our vehicles. I advanced on the bird but stared over my shoulder at the figure exiting the vehicle. I recognized the person as a local ranch owner and realized this was likely her land that we were marching across. Mike went back to talk to her while I moved forward with the scope. I called to Mike to come over and look at the bird while I went back to talk to the lady. She confirmed that it was indeed her property that we were standing on and she wondered aloud if it was typical of me to not ask permission before I trespassed. I thought of the bird boxes I’d just hung on the fence across the fields. I guess the honest answer was that I rarely ask permission. A short time later, after mumbling our thanks for being allowed to continue our quest across the land for the mystery bird, we stood around the scope and shared the details of what we saw. We all agreed it was a Black-bellied Plover in an intermediate plumage. The solid white under tail feathers, the size of the bird and the size of the beak all led to this logical conclusion. It was a lifer for all three of us but only I did the lifer dance. With the sun dropping in the west we exited the pasture and dashed off to our various obligations. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
