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gannets and stuff April 6, 2002 |
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Today's Bird
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Pitcher: |
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I'm feeling birding-deprived. The new obsolete computer to replace the dusty laptop has not arrived at the cat shelter and here I am in Salisbury, gateway to Newburyport, which is gateway to birds... with possibly enough time on my hands to remedy this bird deprivation situation. I don't have to think twice. I'm outa here headed for there. No piping plovers are anywhere in sight but a whole mess of northern gannets are plunge diving just offshore. It's way cool to see them this close. Some people on the platform at parking lot 1 ask me what I am looking at through my scope. I tell them gannets but it means nothing to them. They ask "what are those special birds and why don't they finish nesting until August?" Instantly I give the whole piping plover life cycle in detail. They are amazed. The beach closure starts further south this year so people can sunbathe and do whatever they do on the beach by parking lot 1, as well as use the boardwalk to access the beach. When I first heard about this I worried because one piping plover pair nested in that area last year, plus that's where one of the least tern colonies was either last year or the year before (my memory is merging all those days on the beach into one big blur). I'm relieved to see symbolic fencing in those areas. Not that symbolic fencing works all that well, but it's something. And if the least terns nest there again they not only take care of themselves but the piping plovers too. Vicious little birds that they are when they're nesting they dive bomb you and poop on you if you get close to the nests. This is why piping plovers do better when least terns are there. The plover strategy of freezing and trying to blend in with the sand works well when the threat is from above but the least tern strategy works better against two and four-legged terrestrial threats. The hawk migration is in full swing and I spot three female kestrels near the Pines trail within a few yards of each other. And on the way back north I spot an adult male northern harrier over the marsh. Every northern harrier I have ever seen in my life until today has been female or immature. This guy looks exactly like the crisp pale gray with black in the book. He's gorgeous. I pull off to the side of the road and watch him until he disappears. A real treat. With the long stop for savoring the male harrier, I have no time to go home before it is time to fetch Nancy at the bus station so I head straight there and just make it. The plan is for dinner at House of Tibet Kitchen and a long browse at McIntyre & Moore 'cause I'm having used book withdrawal too. Dinner proves to be excellent. There's nothing like potato-filled momos with Tibetan hot sauce. And at McIntyre and Moore I immediately spot a copy of Logbook for Grace by Robert Cushman Murphy, which I've been wanting to read for ages. It's a paperback in fine condition and the price is definitely right at $4. |
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Copyright © 2002, Janet I. Egan |
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