The Reluctant Twitcher (9 page)
Photo
by BarryS. Cherriere.
Worm-eating Warbler. Point Pelee. Difficult to find in Ontario, one does
not see this bird every year, even at Pelee.
Henslow's Sparrow.
Seen on the trail at the West Beach on the Point. “On the trail” is perhaps not an entirely honest description. The bird has not been spotted for several days and is nowhere to be seen when Hugh and I arrive. I somehow know it is there, back in the grass, and that it will be necessary to go off the trail to find it. So I look long and carefully in all directions, check for hidden surveillance cameras, and wait for the right moment before quickly walking in off the trail, quietly asking Peter Whelan's ghost for forgiveness this one time. Even the legendary Jon Dunn is afraid of the Pelee SS, who can be inappropriately fierce, so it is a risk. But it pays off; I see the bird right in front of me after a short weak flight. You have to get a few of this kind of bird to get to three hundred.
Photo
by Stephen T. Pike.
Henslow's Sparrow. West Beach Hiking Trail, Point Pelee. A declining
grassland bird, this is a very hard sparrow to find in Ontario.
Yellow-headed Blackbird.
Nobody has seen any of these birds but Hugh swears he knows just where they will be on Angler Line on the east side of Lake St. Clair, so we rush up and, sure enough, his favourite marsh has a dozen of them. This leads to an inordinate if brief surge of confidence and wild optimism, which sadly turns out to be totally unwarranted. Things soon go straight downhill.
Photo
by Jean Iron.
Yellow-headed
Blackbird (male).
Old Cut, Long
Point area. This
smashing bird is
sadly retreating from
most of its haunts in
Ontario.
By the time we reach St. Clair Conservation Area, it is teeming rain, and I mean bucketing, but Hugh is riding the wave of optimism and says we are “sure” to get Virginia Rail, Sora, and Least Bittern. He has spent a good deal of time this morning setting up rail and bittern calls on his tapes, and we head off in the rain with Hugh carrying his enormous ghetto blaster, and his friend Diana carrying his large beer-company umbrella and everything else. Our “certainty” of success makes the walk in the driving rain less unpalatable. Hugh plunks down the ghetto blaster at a likely point and says, “Here we go. We'll try for Least Bittern first.” The excitement mounts; my wife is very keen to see this bird. “They should come right in,” says Hugh.
Suddenly the air is split with the loudest and most insane cackling imaginable. Somehow the tape has been set for Wild Turkey and the volume is at high. No bitterns respond. No rails come out for a look. In fact, we don't see anything at all for most of our walk. At one point I call a flying Least Bittern, which appears only briefly and then drops out of sight. Everyone else misses it and Hugh becomes very quiet. Black despair sets in. I am glad Felicity and I are in another car. Diana does her best to make light of the incident, to little avail. Ironically I later have to strike Least Bittern from my list because, according to my own rules, I did not get a proper diagnostic look.
Mourning Warbler.
Seen on the path while buying a muffin and coffee behind the Visitor Centre. The guy beside me, for whom the bird is a lifer, would have missed it had I not wrested his bins from him and roughly tilted his head downwards. His gratitude knows limits.
Green Heron
(Felicity's favourite bird) and
Virginia Rail
. Both in the pond at Fish Point on Pelee Island. Adam Pinch and I are on the viewing platform bewailing the lack of rails when a Virginia Rail strolls out from under the platform and feeds unconcernedly for fifteen minutes.
American Avocet.
Three seen at Hillman's Marsh on a quick drop-in on the way back from Pelee Island to Rondeau Provincial Park.
Photo by
Andrew Don.
Green Heron (juvenile). Rattray Marsh. The head fluff and streaked
neck can still be seen on this young bird.
Yellow-bellied Flycatcher
and
Prothonotary Warbler
. Both on the Tulip Tree Trail at Rondeau. The Prothonotary is in his usual slough; the Yellow-bellied is sweet because I find it first by its odd, truncated wood-pewee-type call, which several passing birders insist is just an Eastern Wood-Pewee.
Margaret Atwood.
Seen on the north road on Pelee Island carrying laundry to a car. More easily found by searching areas where the garlic mustard has been savagely uprooted â the fresher the uprooting the better. Seventh year in a row. It's a tick.
Fred Bodsworth.
This year's Island celebrity birder, and only eighty-eight at this time, seen in a restaurant bar finishing his second beer at 9:00 p.m., surrounded by his exhausted daughters and son-in-law whom Fred has had on the go since about 6:00 a.m. and who can't wait to get to bed. Fred comes over to Felicity and me and asks, “Say, do you guys know any good spots for evening woodcock display?” I do â on the far end of the island. Fred says they will definitely give it a try. I ask him not to reveal to his family who told him about the spot.
M
OST
C
RUSHING
D
ISAPPOINTMENTS
When you go to the Pelee area in May with 182 species under your belt, it is harder to get new birds than it is when your list is more modest and, of course, it gets harder each day to add new species. But you still have to run around like mad trying because you have to get as many of the birds you have counted on seeing as possible while they are all crowded into this one small area and to save having to chase these birds all over the province later. Among my more disappointing misses are: Least Bittern (especially since I think I actually saw one); Sora (I do not even
hear
one at Hillman's); Eastern Screech-Owl; Olive-sided Flycatcher; Acadian Flycatcher; Yellow-throated Vireo; Gray-cheeked Thrush (usually hard to miss); Louisiana Waterthrush; Golden-winged Warbler (I nearly always am lucky with this bird, as Joan Winearls and Barbara Kalthoff can attest, even though it has an obscenely quiet song â quite unforgivable really); Orange-crowned Warbler; Le Conte's Sparrow; Whip-poor-will; Kentucky Warbler; and Yellow-breasted Chat (even at the old cemetery I do not so much as hear one, though both Hugh and Margaret do). Missing Kirtland's Warbler is only a disappointment because on Pelee Island practically everyone I run into has just seen one or more, sometimes many. Somehow Rob Tymstra and I miss all of them, no matter how quickly we check them out. Hmmm.
I at least give the Le Conte's Sparrow a good run for its money. It is reportedly in a grassy field with low shrubs just north of the Park. Hugh and I try for it several times and then enlist the help of some young hotshots, Gavin Platt and Andrew Keaveney, and we go after the bird in earnest. We all get glimpses of an extremely elusive small sparrow, but none of us can identify it for sure. Finally, we see it dart into an isolated clump of shrubs. I say in jest that a
real
birder would go around the field, come up on the shrubs from behind, get down on the ground and do the wiggly-worm through the shrubs, thereby flushing the sparrow out so we could all get a good look. Andrew immediately begins a long, slow lope around the field, comes up to the shrubs, drops onto his stomach, and begins to work his way through like a snake. His girlfriend, who up to this point has perhaps not fully comprehended what she is getting herself into, looks on in consternation. Nothing, of course, flies out. Oh, the bird is there. So, doubtless, are others, but they are all too terrified by this hideous anaconda to fly. But like I said, I gave it my best shot, even if it was Andrew.
P
ELEE
A
REA
H
ARVEST BY
D
AY
May 7 (193).
Eleven new birds, including Cerulean Warbler at Rondeau and Black-bellied Plover, Short-billed Dowitcher, and American Pipit at Hillman's Marsh.
May 8 (211).
Eighteen new birds, including American Golden-Plover at Hillman's and Red-headed Woodpecker, White-eyed Vireo, Worm-eating Warbler, Northern Waterthrush, Hooded Warbler, Wilson's Warbler, Summer Tanager, Grasshopper Sparrow, Henslow's Sparrow, and Orchard Oriole on the Point.
May 9 (216).
Five new birds: Philadelphia Vireo, Prairie Warbler, Canada Warbler, all on the Point; Marsh Wren at St. Clair Wildlife Area; Yellow-headed Blackbird at Angler Line.
May 10 (224).
Eight new birds, including Black Tern on the Marsh Boardwalk and Black-billed Cuckoo, Blue-winged Warbler, Tennessee Warbler, and Mourning Warbler on the Point.
May 11 (226).
Two new birds: Solitary Sandpiper and Bobolink on Pelee Island.
May 12 (227).
One new bird: Blackpoll Warbler on Pelee Island.
May 13 (228).
One new bird: Common Moorhen on Pelee Island.
May 14 (230).
Two new birds: Green Heron and Virginia Rail on Pelee Island.
May 15 (231).
One new bird: Yellow-billed Cuckoo on Pelee Island.
May 16 (235).
Four new birds: American Avocet and White-rumped Sandpiper at Hillman's Marsh and Yellow-bellied Flycatcher and Prothonotary Warbler, both on the Tulip Tree Trail at Rondeau Provincial Park.
I return home at 235 with fifty-three new species, including some good ones I might have had a hard time chasing down elsewhere, but I am fifteen short of where I wanted to be and am missing some must-get birds.
Be it duly noted that I am glad, really glad, that my pal John Carley so effortlessly saw the Chuck-will's-widow just after I went home. I am particularly pleased that he had such excellent and prolonged close-up views and derived such immense pleasure from this bird, which would have been a new one for my Ontario life list. Margaret got it, too, â further cause for gladness and joy. She also got Olive-sided and Acadian Flycatcher, Louisiana Waterthrush, Golden-winged and Orange-crowned Warbler, and Yellow-breasted Chat. Boy, am I glad she is not in any way even
trying
to keep ahead of me, let alone competing with me.
All my hopes are now on Rainy River, especially since, for the first time in ages, Thickson's Woods has failed to produce any rarities or southern overshoots this spring. Sadly, Margaret's hip cannot take the long car trip to Rainy River. Nor can Jim Fairchild's health permit, though I do ask him despite the fact that he did sneak up to Parry Sound and get the Blue Grosbeak after we had both decided it was probably too long a shot to merit trying. Hughie and I shall have to try not to pull too far ahead of them.
Heh-heh.
