White Ibis, Yellow-crowned Night-Heron, and Virginia Beach

Finally made my first trip to Virginia Beach this past week. The weather was
mostly brutally windy and cold, but at least the rain held off until the last day. I was in town for a conference, so I had to fit in quick side trips for birding whenever I could. The sporadic searching certainly resulted in fewer discoveries, but I still managed to add 5 lifers to my list.

The first lifer was a Brown Pelican perched on a pole just outside of the tunnel between Norfolk and Virginia Beach. It was just the warm welcome I was hoping for! Little did I know, I was in for sightings of at least 100 more Brown Pelicans before my visit was over.

(But, really, nothing rivaled the sheer numbers and spectacle of the Northern Gannets. Every morning and evening, from my hotel room, I could sit and watch literally thousands of Gannets hunting for their meals over the ocean. I'd seen some Gannets before, no doubt, but I left Virginia Beach with a profound respect and awe of that stunning, powerful, ferocious, graceful bird.)

My next lifer was a Yellow-crowned Night-Heron (why Cornell has this peculiar arrangement of hyphens and odd capitalization is anyone's guess). Considering how secretive and mostly-nocturnal this bird is, I definitely did not expect to add it to my list. I lucked out, though, when I arrived at Pleasure House Point and within 5 minutes bumped into a local birder, Rexanne Bruno. Rexanne and I exchanged pleasantries, and I somehow convinced her that I was harmless and clueless enough to let me tag along for the remainder of her walk. Rexanne has been birding that territory for 15 or so years, so she knew exactly where we might find a Yellow-crowned Night-Heron. Within minutes, we found two Black-crowned Night-Herons perched in the trees, and I was content enough with that discovery, but not 10 yards away on the opposite side of the path was a Yellow-crowned Night-Heron in broad daylight. Donning his full regalia, he was magnificent! We studied him while he hunted for many minutes, and when we came back 45 minutes later, he was still out in the open looking for some food, wholly undeterred by our presence. Awesome find and life bird 220!

I picked up a lone Piping Plover (lifer 221) during my visit to Back Bay the next day, but considering much of that area is closed for the offseason, I left feeling a little deflated. I'd read so many good things about the quantity and diversity of birds at Back Bay that I probably had unrealistic expectations. But... as a direct result of feeling let down, I exited Back Bay at an unusually slow pace, just hoping to pick up a Seaside Sparrow or something. Virtually no one was out that day, so I could drive as leisurely as I wanted, stopping the car in the middle of the road if something required closer viewing. And then it happened. With just a few hundred yards left before entering the neighborhoods outside of Back Bay park, I spotted an American Bittern tucked into the reeds near a small stream. Lifer 222! If I'd seen a bunch of other birds before leaving, I would've left the park in higher spirits and at a faster speed. I almost certainly would've missed that amazing little prehistoric throwback.

But my greatest find of all happened just a few miles from the Bittern. After leaving Back Bay, I decided to explore some back roads and farms, hoping beyond hope to find some rarities brave enough to weather the brewing storms. Out of nowhere, I saw a flock of bright-white, long-beaked birds. I made a quick u-turn and pulled up along side these bizarre little creatures. You probably already know what they were, but I sure didn't. Studying the field guides enough will leave traces of knowledge--names, habitats, migration probability--but as a beginning birder, I often just stare wide-mouthed at new discoveries. (By the way, I don't think that's a bad thing, and I don't ever want to lose that feeling of being nearly clueless about a bird, just lost in how odd/beautiful/stupefying/frightening the thing is.) Of course, it turns out the birds were White Ibis, a rarity for the area (at least this time of the year) and lifer number 223 for me. If the Bittern is straight out of prehistory, the White Ibis is straight out of Edward Gorey's sketchbook. This is one far out bird!

Other wildlife were actually pretty scarce, but Rexanne and I did manage to find a Harbor Seal at Pleasure House Point (not that he was hard to spot, what with his impressive girth and dopey face!). Can I has hug?

Woodcocks in Loudoun County

Well, I struck out with the Woodcocks at Huntley Meadows (not because they didn't show--though they didn't--but because I couldn't find the place), but I wasn't discouraged because I'd arranged to spend a different evening with Loudoun Wildlife Conservancy and the Woodcocks at the Institute Farm in Aldie, VA. And, boy, did these Loudoun Co. Woodcocks put on a show!

As most birders know, it's not easy to get a good photo of a Woodcock because of their fondness for dimly-lit locales, but poor photo ops in no way diminished the experience. This night was all about being near the birds (and some frogs, to be sure). And though some were calling me the Woodcock Whisperer (a badge I wear with pride, entendres be damned), it was no doubt sheer luck that the Woodcocks kept landing within 20 feet of my position. One time I even had to duck out of the way when a Woodcock buzzed by my head, landing a mere 6 feet from me! What an amazing night, what an amazing bird.

Brown-headed Nuthatch (+ a rant)

Took advantage of the Spring-ish weather yesterday and went exploring some
VA and MD hotspots. Though the early morning was overcast and chilly, the Great Falls walk still produced nearly 40 species. The highlight, by far, was my sighting of a female Long-tailed Duck swimming near 4 male Common Mergansers. The bird was noticeably larger than nearby Buffleheads and nearly as large as the Common Mergs, and she had a distinct spot/smudge on her cheek.

No one else on the walk saw the bird, and I'm guessing few would believe a Long-tailed could be there. As far as I can tell, there has never been a reported sighting of a Long-tailed Duck at Great Falls, so this is indeed a significant find. (To be clear, I'm not looking for accolades. I'd feel much better if someone more experienced finds the bird later this week to "legitimize" the finding.)

I then made my way over to the Chesapeake Bay Environmental Center (CBEC) for a much-overdo first visit. I'd read that this is the most consistent site for Brown-headed Nuthatches, and sure enough, within 10 minutes of arrival, there they were! These nuthatches were a life bird for me, and I can't imagine having a better look than on this day. The two birds were positively unfazed by my presence and allowed me to watch for a full 20 minutes while they made some "renovations."

The CBEC is also known for the occasional Virginia Rail (a bird I'm just desperate to see) appearance, but no luck on this visit. It's a beautiful place, though, and I'll definitely be going back. Highly recommend you all make a trek there if you haven't already. If nothing else, you can see Tundra Swans, Northern Pintails, American Wigeon, and of course, Brown-headed Nuthatches!

Now on to the rant... after CBEC, I headed over to Dyke Marsh in hopes of finding the Easter Screech Owl(s). When I arrived at 4 pm, there weren't any other birders present, so I set up shop about 75 yards from the appropriate tree cavity. Within 30 minutes or so, a couple of birders arrived, positioning themselves and all their gear on the path as close to the cavity as possible. Then a rather boisterous (I'm being kind here) photographer joined the group, making grand gestures and talking quite loudly. By 5 pm, the group had become large enough that they covered the entire path. There were people with barking dogs, people talking on cell phones, people grandly gesticulating (I'm still being nice here), people rustling through their gear, people eating... you get the point. And I'm not exaggerating the scene.

I finally had enough by 5:30 and went over to request that they kindly relocate farther down the path so that the owl(s) might be more inclined to show up. The grand gesticulator looked at me with disgust and said nothing; others said "good idea" and "thanks" and "will do." I left disappointed in not seeing the owl(s), but I had hope that these folks would at least be moving far enough away that the owl(s) wouldn't feel threatened anymore.

Once back at my car, considering my options for the evening, I figured nothing was more important than trying to catch a glimpse of a possible life bird. So, I pounded a handful of granola and walked back up the trail. What did I find? Not a single member of that group had budged. Sure, some folks had given up and moved on, but most of the "core" remained. In other words, they'd decided not to heed my advice, they'd decided that they "knew better." Now I'm all for independent thought and action, and I get that folks are excited by this bird, but this... this was just gross. They wouldn't (couldn't?) consider the possibility that these birds might want to feel safe before appearing in the cavity. There was simply no respect for the owl(s), not to mention the lack of respect they had for all the Dyke Marsh walkers who were forced to push around/through the group to keep on the path.

Of course, it's possible I'm overreacting. It's possible I'm totally wrong about the birds wanting to feel less threatened. But the fact that these people simply weren't interested in considering an alternative is troubling, at the very least.

For the first time, I was embarrassed to be a birder.

A Few More Lifers

Carol and Jay Hadlock put together a trip to Ocean City and Assateague this past weekend, so I jumped at the chance to spend some time with great birders and great birds. I had extended "life looks" at Common and Red-throated Loons; Black, White-winged, and Surf Scoters; and Purple Sandpipers. We also saw more Brant together (roughly 150) than most of us had ever seen.

Best of all, I got to add three new life birds! I had horrible but legitimate looks at a Common Eider in flight in Ocean City, and I had a slightly less horrible look at a Clay-colored Sparrow at Assateague. My best viewing by far (through the scope, of course; photo above for reference only) was the American Oystercatchers in Ocean City. I had a few birds on my wish list for the weekend, and Oystercatchers were near the top. Truly a bizarre and awesome little bird!