New River Festival - Belated Post #1

Julie Zickefoose on the hunt for golden-winged warbler at Muddlety....

Geoff Heeter, on the hunt for a Cerulean warbler...

Facebook has killed my blog. It's true. I am woefully late in getting this post (the first of two about the May 2011 New River Nature and Birding Festival) done. It is so much easier to put a pithy post or two and a quick photo on Facebook then to juggle the slow-loading and cumbersome Blogger site to put together a blog post. Besides, writing a blog post is more demanding intellectually (yeah, yeah - no comments from the peanut gallery on the quality of my writing, please) than a quick sentence on FB. But the wonderful New River Festival and the gathering of those wonderful women (and new man, Doug Sanchez!) who constitute The Flock deserve some attention. This trip fed my soul. Just like it did in 2009.

New River Gorge bridge (as seen from the boat in Birding By Boat field trip)

This year I did the Birding by Butt, Birding by Boat and Muddelty field trips. My goal - a Cerulean warbler. The Cerulean has been my nemesis bird for five years. I missed seeing it in 2009 at New River when everyone was racking them up by the dozens. I deliberately chose Muddlety since that mountain is known for breeding Ceruleans and may be lost to mountain-top strip mining any day now. Muddelty, Geoff Heeter and Julie Zickefoose (I was in total birder geek-dom) did not disappoint. Upon hearing that it was my target bird, Geoff and Julie put their trained ears and amazing talents to work and soon picked up a singing Cerulean. They worked hard to get me on the bird and I had satisfyingly long looks at a single male working a treetop just off the road. Yes, I cried. Hard. Sometimes good birds can move you to tears. And my friends, Susan Kaiholz-Williams, Laura Hardy, Kathy Hutton and Doug Sanchez were there to share the moment. It could not have been more perfect. Sometimes the birding gods hand you a lifer. And sometimes, they make the moment absolutely unforgettable.

Jim McCormac pointing out birds before we board the boats.

Birding the parking lot at Burnwood after breakfast. We never lose an opportunity to look for birds - even while waiting for our bus.
Another unforgettable moment occurred while wandering the grounds of Opossum Creek Retreat after breakfast at Birding By Butt. Walking with Doug Sanchez (welcome to The Flock, Doug. You fit in perfectly!) and Susan Kaiholz-Williams, we came across a yellow lady slipper. Susan remarked that it looked like a yellow scrotum. I said it had Hasidic Jew side curls. That's all it took. We all broke into uncontrollable giggles for long, long minutes. I will never be able to look at this beautiful wildflower the same way again.
Yellow ladyslipper (aka Yellow Scrotum Hasidic Jew Flower)

Other life birds at New River included black-billed cuckoo (wonderful looks at Opossum Creek) and golden-winged warbler. Thanks to Julie Zickefoose for getting me both of these birds. Once again, New River didn't disappoint in the sheer volume of birds, the beauty of the mountains and river and the amazing company. As Jeff Gordon once said, "this place is like summer camp for birders". Yes, it is. It really is.

Arizona and Life Bird #300

This May (a few short weeks away!) brings two wonderful birding trips to my bird-deficient work-intensive life. The first is a half-week at the always-popular New River Birding and Nature Festival in Fayetteville, West Virginia. Accurately described by Jeff Gordon, ABA President, as "summer-camp for birders", New River is warbler heaven in one of the most beautiful places on earth - green, rolling mountains, white-water rivers, gorgeous sunsets over the gorge, breathtaking flora and a gathering of the noisiest, most gregarious and boisterous group of birders ever to assemble in one place - The Flock. Spending any amount of time with these wonderful women (and a few men) re-energizes my soul and I miss them terribly. The Cerulean warbler is my target bird for this trip - I missed it on the 2009 New River trip and it has been my nemesis bird for five years. I know Geoff, Keith, aka Paco, and the other trip leaders will make sure to find it for me. If I can put in my request now, I would like them to deliver a Cerulean to my hotel room as I drink my morning coffee. Now that is the kind of service one can expect at New River and Opposum Creek!

Vermillion Flycatcher

After one and a half days at home following New River (just enough time for laundry and a quick cuddle with the cats and the boyfriend - in that order), I fly to Arizona for my first west coast birding experience. At Thanksgiving last year, my bird mentor, Uncle Jim, casually mentioned that an Arizona trip with him and his lovely wife, Laura, was a possiblity in the spring of 2011. I agreed, assuming that like all good intentions, it would never occur. But I should never underestimate the lure of a life bird - Uncle Jim needs the Mexican chickadee and the juniper titmouse for his list. His good friend and fellow birder, Nell, knows Clifford Cathers, owner of Economy Birding Services, Inc and voila - a few emails, phone calls and plane reservations later, Jim, Laura, Nell and I are joining Cliff for a four day tour of southeastern Arizona.

Most of the birds on this trip will be lifers for me since I have no western species on my life list. Regardless of the number of lifers I collect at New River, the Arizona trip should put me over 300. I hope the 300th bird is a special one - my 200th bird was a Florida Scrub Jay at the Space Coast Festival in Titusville, FL. What will make the 300th bird so special is not the number, but the fact that I will be with Uncle Jimmy when I get it. It can't get more perfect than that.

Stellar Jay

The itinerary that Cliff prepared for us includes the Chiricahuas, Santa Rita Mountains, the low desert near Continental, Madera Kubo, Tubac, Rio Rico Ponds, Pena Blanca Lake, Madera Canyon in the evening for some owling (yes!!), Miller Canyon, Ash Canyon, Huachuca Mountains, Willcox Cochise Lake and Rustler Park. Wow! I will be one tired little birder - but with an amazing list.

Species we are targeting include gilded flicker, gila woodpecker, ladder-backed woodpecker, Gambel's quail, pyrrhuloxia, ash-throated flycatcher, vermillion flycatcher, brown-crested flycatcher, Lucy's warbler, Bell's vireo, verdin, curve-billed thrasher, cactus wren, black-throated sparrow, hooded oriole, Northern bearded tyrannulet, Albert's towhee, greater roadrunner, rufous-winged sparrow, red-faced warbler, Grace's warbler, olive warbler, Hutton's viroe, plumbeous vireo, Western wood pee-wee, white-throated swift, broad-tailed hummingbird, hepatic tanager, Western tanager, greater pee-wee, pygmy nuthatch, hermit warbler, Townsend's warbler, red-shafted flicker, dusty-capped flycatcher, elegant trogon, Mexican jay, acorn woodpecker, flame-colored tanager, Scott's oriole, magnificent hummingbird, broad-billed hummingbird, bewick's wren, bridled titmouse, juniper titmouse, Mexican chickadee, sulphur-bellied flycatcher, Arizona woodpecker, black-throated gray warbler, black-headed grosbeak, Cassin's kingbird, black-capped gnatcatcher, tropical kingbird, Western kingbird, gray hawk, common ground-dove, berylline and white-eared hummingbirds, least grebe, bronzed cowbird, black-chinned hummingbird, elf owl, western screech owl, whiskered screech owl, lesser nighthawk, common poorwill, Lucifer hummingbird, Montezuma quail, zone-tailed hawk, Botteri's sparrow, Anna's hummingbird, Western bluebird and short-tailed hawk. Whew! ALL of these would be life birds for me. Intense? Yes. Exhausting? Yes. Exciting? YES!

Juniper Titmouse (a target species for this trip)

I have purchased three new field guides for Western US and Arizona and am studying like mad. I don't think I will be nearly ready enough, but with four experienced birders to assist, I am looking forward to hitting 300. West Virginia with The Flock and Arizona with Uncle Jim. How lucky can one birder get?

70 Degrees in February

A tree full of turkey vultures

With a gorgeous and unusual February day, what is more perfect than birding? I have been ashamedly lax in birding. The harsh winter and a job that keeps me on the road and working for hours when I get home are my excuses. But no more. A well-deserved vacation day and record-setting warmth and sunshine were on the calendar. I was prepared to bird in the cold, but lucky me.

Going to my usual haunts- Nockamixon State Park and Peace Valley Park- afforded looks at all the usual suspects. But at Nockamixon, hundreds of snow geese were unexpectedly flying over and making a terrible racket. I found one dark morph goose in with the rest, perhaps a blue morph snow goose. Nice. Life bird wiggle all alone while standing at the shore of a partially frozen lake surrounded by woods. Hope no one saw me and thought I was having an epileptic fit. But one must appease the bird gods after all.

Melting snow making torrents of miniature white-water rapids down the sides of the road added a beautiful background noise to the soundtrack of scolding titmice, frenetic chickadees, throaty red-bellied woodpeckers and single note chirps of brilliant red and orange Northern cardinals. The cardinals have never looked more striking.

The tall iron branches in the forest,

the dense fertility on the ground.

The world is wet.

The morning time

Mother earth is cool.

The air is like a river

which shakes the silence.

It smells of rosemary

of space and roots.

Overhead a crazy song.

How out of its throat

smaller than a finger

can there fall

the waters of its song?

Invisible power

torrent of music in the leaves.

Clean and freshwashed is this day

resounding like a green dulcimer.

Oh invisible little critters

birds of the devil with their ringing

with their useless feathers.

I only want to caress them

to see them resplendent.

I want to see them living.

I want to converse with them

sitting on my shoulders.

You can't touch them.

You can hear them like a heavenly

rustle or movement.

They converse with precision.

They repeat their observations.

They brag of how much they do.

They comment on everything that exists.

And by a sure science they know

where there are harvests of grain.

-Pablo Neruda

Cape May Part Two - It's All About the Birds

Flocks of tree swallows swirl over the sand

This year Cape May had the largest autumn migration fall-out in over 10 years. Driving to early morning field trips, I had to drive 10 miles an hour to avoid running over the dozens of birds on every paved surface - even the middle of the street. I had to stop the car at one intersection to pick up an exhausted sparrow who didn't move when my car approached and put him on the side of the road where he would be safer. The sky and trees were dripping with birds. Thousands of robins, yellow-rumps and sparrows, tree swallows (along with a lifer cave swallow), finches and kinglets flew through the night and landed in Cape May to rest and feed before continuing migration. Dozens of raptors wheeled through the sky at any given moment.


The weekend provided two life birds for me (cave swallow and lesser black backed gull) and almost 100 species total. But it was the sheer numbers that were breathtaking. I have only been birding for six years, but this was a spectacle unlike anything I had seen and had only read about. I felt blessed to be able to witness it.


My picture taking ability is limited to large birds perched close, so all the bird pictures I have are of mute swans. The most exciting birds I saw were the raptors - dozens of sharp-shinned hawks, Cooper's hawks perched on telephone wires and calling to each other, then flying down to the ground only yards away where I could get good looks at their patrician profiles. An osprey, immature and mature bald eagles, both turkey and black vultures, dozens of harriers (where I learned to identify the juveniles by their gorgeous buffy rufous bellies), red-shouldered and red-tailed hawks, peregrine falcons (!!!), broad wing hawks and dozens of kestrels were highlights of the weekend. There is no place like Cape May for raptor watching.

Morning flight over the hawk watch platform at Cape May Point Park
(click to enlarge and view the spectacle of hundreds of birds in flight)

One of the more unusual birds I saw close up was the woodcock blown in from over the ocean and perched under a staircase across the street from the Grand Hotel. It was obviously exhausted and stressed, so we stayed a respectable distance and, thanks to Jim from Kowa Optics who showed us the location and lent us his scope to observe, I got looks at a forest bird who flys mostly at dusk at Cape May in broad daylight!

Getting great looks at kinglets, thrushes, sparrows, ducks and shorebirds like oystercatcher, dunlin, black bellied plover, sanderling, purple sandpiper, ruddy turnstone (one of my favorite shorebirds), woodpeckers, herons, egrets and terns made for an educational as well as exciting weekend. I was able to clearly see size difference in the cackling goose at the tail end of the V formation of Canada geese. I learned to differentiate the white scapular outline on mallard duck wings and see the color and size difference of lesser black backed gulls vs. great black backed gulls.

I couldn't have asked for a more exciting weekend - birds and great friends.

Cape May Autumn Migration - It's All About the People

Me and Susan at the Hawk Watch Platform at the Cape May Lighthouse.

The Flock (part of it, anyway) at the Autumn Festival. From left to right, me, Susan, Laura and Delia

The 2010 Cape May, NJ Autumn Migration Festival on my birthday weekend (October 29-31) turned out to be a magical birding experience. A lot of it had to do with the birds - the largest migration fall-out since 1999 (according to the Cape May experts) and two wonderful life birds (lesser black backed gull and cave swallow).

But mostly, the weekend was about the people - my birding peeps. Birding experts and heroes (Pete Dunne, Bill Thompson III, Louise Zemaitis, Jeff Gordon, etc), founding members of the Blogger Flock (who embraced me as one of their own at this very Festival three years ago) and newly-found bird friends and all-around wonderful people.

New friends, Gareth and Rick, at the C-View Inn, relaxing with The Flock after a hard day's birding.

Jersey-licious Laura (on the right) and saucy Susan at the C-View Inn

After arriving Thursday evening from business in Harrisburg, I hit the early morning Friday field trip at The Beanery. My first friend sighting was Jeff Gordon, newly appointed president of the American Birding Association and his lovely first lady, Liz Gordon. Then other friends arrived: Laura, Susan, Delia and Delia's partner AB.

Lots of hugs, giggles and catching up, interspersed with some birding, ensued. Throughout the next three days, we traveled Cape May marveling at the birds and enjoying each other's company.

Susan, Bill Thompson and Delia doing some bird-gazing

Top left: Jeff and Liz Gordon leading a field trip at The Beanery

Top right: Delia getting ready to enjoy whipped cream with a side of blueberry pancakes at Uncle Bill's

Bottom left: Parts of the Flock representing in Cape May (from left: Laura, Susan, Delia and me). Photo courtesy of Laura Hardy


A recent study by a psychologist at Stanford University concluded that one of the best things a man can do for his health is to be married while one of the best things a woman can do for her health is nurture relationships with other women. The myriad ways we connect with our women friends, offering unconditional support in tough times, love and laughter in good times and sometimes just an easy quiet being is undoubtably good for our souls. Being able to share our feelings in a non-threatening atmosphere boosts levels of serotonin, helping combat depression and foster well-being.

I didn't need a study to tell me that these women (and men) are good for me and my soul. But it did reinforce for me that time with my friends is the greatest gift I can give myself. Combine that with a hobby that never ceases to instill in me a sense of wonder and awe in powers greater than myself, and it was definitely a magical weekend.

photo courtesy of Laura Hardy

Pelagic Birding Off Cape Hatteras, NC

Why did I say "yes"? A pelagic birding trip? Me? I get motion sick just riding in a car! No freakin' way. I just knew I would spend most of the trip heaving my breakfast over the side of the boat, adding to the chum slick and embarrassing myself in front of experienced birders. So I had resigned myself to never having pelagic birds on my life list. But it was my birding mentor, Uncle Jim, who suggested the trip. I love birding with him.

So in January I agreed. In February I started to panic.

I got a prescription for scopolomine patches from my doctor, stocked up on Dramamine, bought sunscreen and a rain slicker and pants and prayed to the bird gods and Neptune. Be gentle with me, please.

I studied my field guide to prepare for the birds we were likely to see. Uh-oh. They all look alike - small, brown and gray. This is not going to be a typical spring warbler trip! Well, I will be with some experts who can help me sort them out in between bouts of puking over the side.

The Stormy Petrel II waiting for birders at 5:00am

I drove to North Carolina and Uncle Jim and I birded Lake Mattamuskeet, Pea Island and the Outer Banks (to be covered in another blog post) on the way to Cape Hatteras where at daybreak on Saturday, we boarded the Stormy Petrel II, owned and operated by Brian Patteson and his wonderful staff.

There is a Wilson's storm-petrel flying off to the right in this picture. Honest. Click on the picture to enlarge.

We left dock at 6:00am to head to the gulf stream (a two hour and twenty minute top-speed ride). Lots of fun, if a bit damp. The only time I got queasy was when I went into the bathroom. The enclosed space and the rocking motion made for a bad time, but once out in the fresh air where I could see the horizon, I was just fine. I even managed to eat lunch without getting sick.

In my new rain slicker - steaming towards the Gulf Stream.

Uncle Jim getting salt-sprayed but looking foward to good birds.

Once we got out to the gulf stream, we saw dozens of Wilson's storm-petrels (they soon became the trash bird of the trip - they stayed with us the entire time we were on the gulf stream). They danced and fluttered on the ocean partaking of the menhaden oil that the Stormy Petrel II staff spread on the water to attract more birds. Wilson's storm-petrels dip their feet into the water as they feed, "paddling" to either hover over the food source or perhaps stir up more food. It gives an impression of seabird butterflies. Beautiful and magical. White-rumped storm-petrels soon joined in. I could not tell the difference between the two - the field guides say that the white-rumps have a divided rump patch, but with the speed of the birds and the rocking motion of the boat, all I could see was a brown bird with a white rump.

Pretty soon, black-capped petrels and greater shearwaters joined in. The shearwaters were easy to study since they often floated on the ocean like gulls and let us take good long looks. A Leach's petrel and Audubon shearwater were spotted by some but I didn't get on them. I did get great looks at a lone bridled tern (another lifer). A few Cory's shearwaters flew by. It is amazing to think that these birds spend all their time at sea unless they are nesting or are blown ashore in a storm. Pelagic life list was up to six. Life was good. But pelagic birding is long stretches of blue ocean and boredom punctuated by moments of intense excitement as a bird flies by. Six hours passed and the boat finally revved up to take us the two and a half hours back to shore.

Sunrise on the Atlantic

Suddenly, there was a big ruckus at the front of the boat. A group of six false killer whales was spotted. They gave us great looks as they swam close to and under the boat, almost playing with us. Dolphins, sunfish and flying fish rounded out the ocean wildlife for the day. Then, sooty and manx shearwaters flew in. Awesome - two more lifers for a total of 8 pelagic species for the day.

Two hours later we pulled into dock, salt-caked, sunburned and very tired, but exhilarated from the sights and sounds of a day on the Atlantic.

Fishing boats following us out to sea under a gorgeous sunrise

Wilson's and white-rumped storm petrels dancing on the oil slick (click to enlarge)

After a seafood dinner and a good night's sleep, we left for Ocraoke Island and the Cedar Island ferry, making our way back home. Thanks to Uncle Jim and the crew of the Stormy Petrel II for a fabulous time.

Dispatch from Space Coast - Day Four

Great Blue Heron at Viera Wetlands

The last day of the SpaceCoast Bird Festival in Florida arrived quickly. The only festival-related event was a panel discussion with the Bird Brain Trust of Kenn Kaufmann (who, due to laryngitis, was replaced on the panel by Alvaro Jaramillo), David Allen Sibley, Pete Dunne and Michael O'Brien. It was moderated by Kevin Karlson. Big names in birding, a packed auditorium and big expectations. The ID forum offered us the chance to watch experts identify birds and share their thought process. Unfortunately, with so many wonderful slides to view, the presentation quickly ate up the two hours allotted and we did not get through all the photos.

It was interesting to watch the individual criteria each expert uses for identifying birds and see how they reach the same or different conclusions. Sibley and Jaramillo are specific and scientific in their identifications, whereas Dunne is more emotional in interpretations. For instance, instead of giving us specific field marks to identify a reddish egret, Pete Dunne likens the way they move to "linebackers who dropped a tab of crystal meth". Now that is an image I won't soon forget and the next day, when I saw my lifer reddish egret, I couldn't have agreed more. He also compared a red-shouldered hawk's hunched appearance to Winston Churchill.

Winston Churchill (or maybe Alfred Hitchcock) on a pole at Viera Wetlands

Garnering an even bigger audience laugh, Pete Dunne tried to explain the difference between short and long-billed dowitchers. Short-bills have blunter and heavier bills and smudgier markings than the long-billed. He described the long-billed as "gentrified" and the short-billed as "shabby". "You wouldn't mind if your son or daughter was going out with a long-billed, but if they brought home a short-billed, you might have to pull them aside for a bit of a talk." Kevin Karlson asked the experts about their favorite birds and remarked that since the peregrine falcon was the symbol of the Cape May Bird Observatory, it must be Dunne's favorite. Dunne replied, "Yes. If I hadn't married Linda...". He does make me giggle.

When some disagreement on the identification of a female duck photo came up, Dunne asked who the female duck was seen "hanging out" with. She was seen with a drake mottled duck. "I am confident that a male mottled duck is more able to discern a female mottled duck than we are, so I'd call it a female mottled and be done with it." Classic birding-by-impression using shape, size, habitat and behavior to narrow down difficult identifications, rather than relying solely on field marks that could vary within one species from bird to bird -that's what I took away from this forum.

Cooperative blue wing teal at Viera Wetlands

After the seminar ended I took a solo trip to the Rich Grissom Memorial Wetlands at Viera, a series of connected ponds at a wastewater treatment facility in Central Brevard county, about an hour south of where I was staying. Besides, everyone at the festival was excited about the rare masked duck that had been at the wetlands for the past three weeks and I wanted to tick this one off on my life list.

The wetlands were my favorite of all my Space Coast trips. Although I went without guides who could have found me more lifers, there is something incredibly satisfying about finding lifers on your own. Driving onto the property, I saw a pair of crested caracaras wheeling above. Good omen. Ring-necked duck (lifer), lesser scaup (lifer), hundreds of coots and moorhens, pied-billed grebes, limpkins, glossy ibis, blue winged teal, egrets, herons, anhingas, wood storks, killdeer and tree swallows were abundant. But without a scope, I was hopelessly looking for a small, cinnamon colored duck with a Zorro mask. I didn't see an abundance of birders gathered in one spot which would have tipped me off to the location of the masked duck, either. As I slowly drove by one pond, a woman with a huge camera excitedly waved me over. All alone, in the middle of a pond full of coots and blue wings, was a tiny (smaller than a ruddy duck) beautifully colored duck with a pronounced black mask on his cheeks, diving repeatedly. How gorgeous. Masked duck. Check.

Driving further down the roads, I scanned the pond-edging reeds hoping for green heron (one of my favorite waterbirds) and perhaps a lifer bittern. I knew I was pushing my luck with a bittern - this secretive species is known for blending in with the vegetation and standing stock still making it difficult to spot movement that would alert a birder to it's presence. But a girl can hope, right?

I saw sparrows, green herons (yay!), egrets, little blue herons and turtles in the reeds. Then I saw what looked like some white feathers caught on a reed. I backed the car up at a painfully slow crawl and there he was - clinging to the reeds - a Least Bittern! Wow. Idid the Life Bird Wiggle from my seat and snapped one picture before he disappeared back into the reeds. Could this day get any better?

My lifer least bittern

A flyover pileated woodpecker capped off the day and I drove back to New Smyrna Beach, sated with lifers, but still missing a reddish egret, one of my target birds for the trip.

On Tuesday, my Aunt Maggie drove me to Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge where I wanted to get that darn reddish egret before I went back to Pennsylvania. It poured rain for the first two hours of our trip, but we soldiered on and got hooded merganser (lifer!), American avocet (lifer!) - an elegant and beautiful bird - and finally, my lifer reddish egret. Harriers, skimmers, herons, egrets, spoonbills, terns, sandpipers, shovelers, teals, grebes, shrike, limpkin, tree swallows, vultures, hawks, pelicans, osprey, kestrels (by the dozens!), kingfisher, moorhens, coots, phoebe and an alligator rounded out the day. Wow. 3 more lifers with just a short trip to Merritt Island. And while in the gift shop, we got great looks at a male painted bunting, at the feeder, in the pouring rain. Not a lifer, but a nice trip-bird.

Dispatch from Space Coast - Day Three

scoping for shorebirds on Disappearing Island

Day Three at the Space Coast Bird & Wildlife Festival held a new concentration for me - shorebirds. Peeps, plovers, willets, sandpipers, gulls, terns, loons, sea ducks - you name it - I'm lost. I needed teaching and I needed it badly.

We started our day in a classroom on the grounds of Brevard County Community College where Adam Kent reviewed the 29 species we are likely to see on Florida coasts in the winter, including my goal birds for the day, Piping Plover and Wilson's Plover. Not to keep you in suspense - I got great looks at both once we were in the field. Adam also provided us with convenient cheatsheets that described each bird. My wrinkled and rain-spotted copy is on the desk next to me and you can be sure I will be referring to it throughout this blog post as well as often in the future!

As a frequent visitor to Barnegat Light, New Jersey, I have seen my share of ruddy turnstones (my favorite shorebird until I fell in love with the Piping Plover) and purple sandpipers, but these were target birds for many in our group.

Piping Plover

Thunderstorms and heavy rain were forecast so we quickly drove to New Smyrna Beach and Smyrna Dunes Park. Originally scheduled for later in the day, our guides decided to take us by pontoon boat first over to Disappearing Island so we wouldn't get stranded there in the rain later. Disappearing Island is a large (acres wide) sandbar in the middle of the Ponce Inlet festooned with hundreds of shorebirds and in this case an additional 35 birders sneaking up on them. Without the distractions of crashing waves and other humans, it was easy to compare a Wilson's Plover (the largest plover with a long bill) to the smiliar looking and much more common Semipalmated Plover. I could not tear my binoculars away from the cutest plover of them all - the Piping Plover. An endangered species, the Piping Plover is often difficult to find - but certainly prevalent here on Disappearing Island. With a stubby bill, paler back and bright orange legs, it was cuddly cute.

After Disappearing Island, it was a boat ride back to Smyrna Dunes Park for a walk along the beach and looks at laughing, herring and ring-billed gulls, greater black-backed gulls, Caspian terns, black skimmers (lifer), sanderlings, more plovers including black-bellied, ruddy turnstones (which have developed a gull-like habit of approaching humans begging for food), pelicans, gannets doing fantastic dives into the ocean, short-billed dowitchers (lifer) and dunlin.

The rain came down heavily around 1pm, so a lot of us decided to cut our losses and trek back to our cars. The rain and the size of the group made for a difficult field learning experience, but any birding trip is a good birding trip! The inside of my car fogged up with condensation as I dried off during the drive back to BCCC campus to kill time before my evening symposium by shopping and taking in the sights at the Exhibit Center - chock full of artists, photographers, nature tours, crafters, wildlife and birding organizations and the always entertaining Raptor Project.

The evening presentation was the esteemed artist and naturalist, David Allen Sibley. He spoke about nature study and how it helps sate our desire to understand and classify our natural world. I certainly understand the need to put everything into little cubby holes and organize it - just ask anyone who has ever lived or worked with me! He explained how he struggled for years to pen his wonderful Sibley Guide to Birds and his newest Sibley Guide to Trees. Sibley is a brilliant, brilliant man with an understated and quiet sense of humor. I enjoyed his anecdote about a friend who once said "there is a fine line between birdwatching and standing around like an idiot." As David said to us, "Can you imagine how he feels about tree-watching?!" Insert chuckles here.

I don't know that tree-watching will be my next hobby, but I have ordered a copy of his guide because I can't help but admire someone who can dedicate massive amounts of time, energy and talent to classifying and structuring the world around us to make it easier for the rest of us.

Day Four (Sunday) of the Festival only held a symposium for me (a real Birding Braintrust) - but I planned a trip by myself to the Viera Wetlands to track down a rare Masked Duck that had been seen there throughout the previous three weeks. All the festival participants were abuzz about it. More about Day Four later.