The waters around Cape May are just chock-full of Ducks these days. The Delaware Bay, and the few spots in the Back-bays of the Great Saltmarsh that I checked out today were covered with waterfowl.

Firstly the raft of Scoter which has been hanging out in the rips has swelled to nearly 6000, or so, and it is quite a sight. It stays tantalizingly far enough away to make most of the scoter not quite identifiable, though it seems like the majority are Black. Also, the number of birds wheeling about in characteristic Black Scoter fashion would seem to indicate this. Regardless of idenitfiability the sight of a slick of Scoter about a mile long and lord knows how wide is a sight to behold.

The number of American Black Ducks around is likewise cause for eye-rubbing. There were nearly 300 in Jenkins Sound, and well over 100 around Nummy’s Island. Between the Coast Guard Ponds and Brigantine, I cannot guess how many thousands of Black-Ducks there are in the Saltmarshes of South Jersey right about now.

Likewise there were impressive numbers of Bufflehead at the end of Shellbay ave-133 is the number i wound up with in the end. A nice treat was the rarer bucephaline in these parts-a lone and handsome drake Common Goldeneye.

Also in the odder-duck box were three Common Mergansers on the little pond in the Parkway median at mm3, and a hen Common Eider at the 8th Street Jetty in Avalon. Common Mergs do not often get this far south or coastal, and that Pond is indeed a reliable spot for them.

Otherwise, an Ad. Black-headed Gull continues off Sunset Beach, and a large flock of 70 Fish Crows in West Cape May seem to indicate their northward advance is finally underway in earnest. There were also at least 5 roding Woodcock around Higbee’s Beach; Spring is indeed Springing, as if the blooming crocuses, snowdrops, and now many Sweetgums and Maples weren’t a grand enough indication.

As an aside, this winter seems to have been a bit more “typical” than the two prior, and some birds, ie Brown Thrashers & Fox Sparrows, were not around through the thick of it in great numbers. Also the arrival of Fish Crows en masse seems to be a bit more “normal” (though I have a feeling if the last week hadn’t been quite so cold and plagues by northwesterlies…). In the few years prior, which were quite warm, the bulk came through nearly a month earlier, if I am not mistaken.

A few nice birds to be had around the county this crisp and cold february day were:

A good-sized flock of Pipits at Hidden Valley and across New England Road, about 25 all told. Whether these were coming, going, or roving is a good question, but they were more Pipits than I’ve seen about the place for more than the last month.

A Likewise good flock of Eastern Meadowlarks was in the field formerly known as the “Vesper Sparrow’ field at Hidden Valley (ie the third one). Interestingly enough, the singleton remains on his winter digs at the causeway on the Meadows as well.

A good sized raft of Sea Ducks remains at the Sea-wall at Avalon, with one smart adult Harlequin duck in its midst. Surf Scoters were squeaking, and Oldsquaw were shyly vocal, feebly calling for “old south-southerly”, given the chill wind, and Black Scoter were noticeably not calling for ‘couer, couer, couer de’laine”.

22 or so Tundra Swans were at Tuckahoe, tucked in among the mutes,, and there were good concentrations of Pintail there, plus more Green-winged Teal than there have been around the point in the last month or so.

Three drake Common Mergansers were sleekly plying the ponds there-what a miracle of hydrodynamics is a Common Merganser. Makes a loon look clunky.

Interestingly, Waterfowl seem to have largely cleared out of the ponds around Cape May Point. THe Hordes of Gadwall and Wigeon wich have been so entertaining are clearly no more, and Lilly Lake was comparatively empty. Ruddy Ducks have begun to congregate in greater numbers on the harbour, but still, now tis the time for Pintail to want to start moving north, for sharp Gadwall to thin out, and for little dark-winged hooded Gulls like Black-heads or Littles proper to begin to turn up.

The heads of Herring Gulls are getting freer of dusky smudges by the day, and despite the cold, Redwings were conkaree-ing yet again today. We are afterall, six weeks between solsice and equinox, and these things don’t happen overnight, as I recall…

Today was blissfully windless here at Land’s End, and the perfect day for a long traverse around Cape Island-naturally that’s just what I did.

Concerned about why Gadwall seemed to outnumber Mallards yesterday, I set about to rectify that, and found that by checking a few spots, like the little duck pond on Madison ave. that situation was duly amended!

A lone Meadowlark, and a fine selection of Waterfowl-including the 7 Snow Geese- were in the Meadows, as well as two Western Palm Warblers on the dike (one of whom was already sporting a few chestnut feathers on the fore-crown). An immature, and a handsome adult White-crown were hanging around with the House Sparrows in the hedge along Sunset, though I could not squeak up a Dickcissel.

Here I would just like to acknowledge that wonderful sound anatids make while breasting their way through a film of ice. I don’t know how many times that sent me looking for some unknown call-note today…

Eight or nine Tree Swallows were hanging around the Meadows, but there were again about thirty in the Bunker Pond, in just about the same place as yesterday.

Now, yesterday, I spied a lone duck which, sans bins, I almost thought was a hen pochard- she had a rich brown head, indeed was rather uniform chocolately brown, a bit warmer on the flank, and had a blue bill. She flew from the one Plover Pond to the next-and once I looked at her, I thought oh, a dull Wigeon. It wasn’t until much later that I had the “doht” moment…Now this afternoon, in the second plover pond, I again saw a lone hen duck, all by herself at the far end of the pond. Initially, and naked eye, I thought it again to be a hen pochard- rich brown, with a blue bill. I quickly realized it was the same Wigeon as the day before-Now why is that uniform, brown-headed Wigeon all by herself, and not even hanging with the other dabblers (a collection of Mallards and Blacks, with a handsome drake MallardxBlack hybrid at the east end of the pond), I thought- there are dozens of Wigeon on every other pond, yet this bird is all by its lonesome…This time I went to check her out…

Yup- she had no black border on her bill- just a black tip and a little bit of a black line on the distal end of the tomium, and sure as shootin- her chin was pale, and her head was a rich chocolatey brown, just like the colour of her breast. In other words, her head and breast were concolourous, and she was indeed a fine female Eurasian Wigeon. All of the other little features, like tertial and covert edges, also lined up just nicely-although I never did get to see if her axillaries were grey as opposed to whitish, and given the light, overcast sky, and how quickly a Wigeon flaps its wings, seriously doubt if I would’ve been able to gauge anyway!

Just past the Eurasian Wigeon, on the second path, I inadvertently flushed a small brace of Mallards to the left of the path- no biggee. However, just in front and from the right, the huge and brown morph female Cooper’s who lives at South Cape May made a furious bee, and perpendicular, line in front of me. In the instant before an impressive event, I just thought I flushed her too…

Who knew she was waiting for the ducks to make a wrong move-which inevitably I caused?

Well, damn, if she didn’t hit one of the Mallards smack dab in mid air. With a horrible sound, and a fluff of feathers, the two promptly fell in the drink just near the newly dug out channel, just to the left of one of the awful new metal foot-bridges.

Like watching an Osprey with a big fish, or Deagol the proto-hobbit in the River Anduin- the Mallard dragged the Coop into the middle of the channel. Just the Coop’s head, nape, and shoulders were above water, and yet she did not release her grip. The duck did manage to drag her quite far out into deep water-though it never surfaced. I suppose it was trying to dive in a last ditch effort to get the reaper off its back.

For what seemed like an eternity, I watched what was visible of the hawk, and then she began to inch towards the shore, unable to bring her wings out of the water even. She got to shallow enough water where her wrists and the drake’s rear-end emerged from the water. She remained in this state for a good ten minute, before clearly overcome by uncontrollable shivers, she used all her might to get her wings out of the water, and rowed into the reeds a bit. There she sat for another ten minutes, and once again, when she began to tremor with chill all over, used a super-raptorial effort to haul the now quite dead-duck a bit further up onto the “shore”. Here she was more or less half out of water, her tail finally emerging, but a good third of her was still in the ice-rimmed water.

At this point I decided, though I was well hidden, that I wasn’t going to be able to see much more for some time, so I went for a walk around the pine grove. By the time I got back- the hawk and her quarry were nowhere to be seen. I can only surmise that she dragged it to a slightly drier place and proceeded to pluck it-I hate to think that after deftly snatching a far heavier, highly manouverable and adept aerialist out of mid-air, and nearly drowning in the process of bagging it, she didn’t even get a couple of day’s worth of calories out of the ordeal!

After that, a traipse through the point and over to Pond Creek could only have been soothing by comparison! A lone Sapsucker, and a White-breasted Nuthatch were on Lake Drive; and a D.C. Cormorant along with the usual waterfowl were on Lily Lake. However, Pond Creek at Sunset was very birdy:

Two adult Peregrines tormented the Harriers for a bit, and in peace-time, the poignant, nearly echolocatory squeals of the Harriers were clearly audible on the windless eve. Most interesting, however, were 6 Sanderling feeding with a small flock of Dunlin on the brackish mudflat. These were more Sanderling than I had seen on the beach, in more appropriate Sanderling habitat, all day!

And finally, along Sunset blvd, just after sunset, near the shops, along the left side of the road, a dark little cock-tailed rail suddenly came running towards me. In the gloaming, I could make out its long bill, and thanks to the wonder of fine german optics, even below focus range, could see it was a handsome little Virginia Rail, clearly intent on crossing over to the Meadows Property just by the pizza parlor. I was absolutely tickled, and due to the on-coming headlights, quickly shoo-ed it back into the phrags.

With luck, it chose a more oppurtune moment to cross the road- so many rails end up as road kill…

One good turn I guess- since I had flushed a Mallard into death’s hand, and may very well have been responsible for a Cooper’s hawk catching its death of cold in the bargain- shooing a Virginia Rail away from traffic seemed a paltry bit of karmic repair!

The sea and the sky were spectacular, in a Turneresque and Gothic kind of way today-Ever changeing bands of grey and cadet blue, with swaths of fog, squalls and rare patches of veiled light. A long walk through the dunes had, thanks to the devilry of a friend, Kate Bush’s “Wuthering Heights” on repeat in my head for most of the day-”out on the wild, windy moors, sleet rolls and falling rain” Oh- the injustice of getting Kate Bush stuck in your head first thing upon awaking…but I digress….

While the Seasacape itself would have been sublime enough, there was an extraordinary raft of Scoter just far enough way in the rips to be annoyingly difficult to specifically identify, but just close enough that when they got up en masse and did their “conveyor belt” style reshuffling the sight was entirely breathtaking. Though there was a good swell, there was only a light chop, and the horde of Scoter were easier to see than usual. The sheer number of them on the otherwise flat and coverless expanse certainly brings to mind thousands of head of game on a plain. I hope they stick for the winter and into the spring- the wails of courting Black Scoter are one of my favorite sounds.

Otherwise, a large flock of Snow Buntings on the beach at South Cape May was almost as picturesque as the Scoter. A flock of 45 “zhreeing” high, heading down the beach seemed to keep on going, though they played tag with the low mist in a most spectral manner-again in keeping with the goth theme of the dunes in a winter storm….Another group of about ten actually settled on the beach, and may indeed be the same group which have been hanging around.

A nice bunch of five Ipswich Sparrows were at the base of the dune at the Meadows Plover Pond. They really are more reminiscent of a Pipit or someother mid-sized open country passerine when they kick up like that-they also don’t sound very much like a more conventional Savannah when they do, I might add. Handsome creatures though.

Otherwise, a couple of Red-shoulders were at Higbee’s, a female Harrier was hunting the Meadows (and decidedly not the subadult Male which has been), and there were likewise a few Purple Finches in Hedgerows here and there.

A few highlights from the better part of the day out and about birding on this little island were:

A surprisingly good seabird flight including flocks and flocks of Red-throated Loons, and far more than expected numbers of Scoter in addition to the apparently growing raft in the rips.

3 Forster’s Terns were not entirely unexpected given the calm and mild conditions.

3 Pied-billed Grebes were scattered here and there.

Duckwise, there were excellent numbers & diversity around, including: 1 Common Eider at Poverty Beach, the most Red-breasted Mergs, Bufflehead, Ruddy Ducks, Hooded Mergs and Black Ducks I’ve yet seen this year, plus very good numbers of Gadwall, and more Shoveler than there have been. Interestingly Teal seem to have rather thinned out though. Most surprising, though, was a hen Oldsquaw in the shallow marshy pan of Pond Creek Marsh at high tide. I suppose it really is within spitting distance of the sea, but still….

An adult Bald Eagle who made his presence known about 4 minutes before being visible by flushing each and every last gull (and a sufficiently panicked Horned Lark) off the beach-front as it flew in off the water just near second Avenue. It the proceeded to flush each and every last duck off the Meadows as it kettled with a good flock of Vultures for a while.

One adult and one imm Red-shoulder were fine additions, and both were up and kettling.

On the subject of Raptors: While walking back through the Magnesite Plant, all of a sudden a large gull began to cry most piteously. It just wouldn’t give up and was making the most awful sounds, but curiously I couldn’t seem to find it-the sounds were first from one spot and then the other, apparently high overhead. Then I found it, or them rather. An adult Peregrine had singled-out the younger of pair of Herring Gulls to make it a plaything for itself. It was spectacular to watch, the falcon doing flips, and rolls, and extending its talon, tauntingly close to the gulls face. The Gull not so “favoured” by the Peregrine’s attentions promptly high tailed it, as his desperate companion tried to keep up with a Peregrine dooing loopty-loops arpound it-nice friend! The dubiously lucky one did its best to avoid the Falcon’s jibes, but was clearly distressed, as its disturbing sounds revealed. Eventually the fickle, sickle-winged tormentor got bored, and went its way. The Gull eventually caught up with his not-so-stalwart companion.

Otherwise an Orange-crown and a Palm Warbler were nice additions, and the Sedge Wren at Higbee’s again was quite visible-today in a mown patch just near yellow pipes where a month ago (ie befere it got mown!) it had been rather difficult to actually see. He even flew across a wide opening, for about 4 meters, giving a great view of the black and white striped back, and the rather long-tailed jizz.

The biggest thrill of the day came just before sunset though, and was given by two River Otters actively hunting around the east pool of the Meadows.

I just stood stock-still, and they fearlessly came towards me, although they clearly knew I was there. Curiosity being, afterall, a characteristic and indeed driving, trait among mustelids.

All of their hunts seemed to engage in the same strategy, and resembled deer-hunter’s “drives”. They would come from open water, and then snake their way through the cattails-underwater, mind you- and flush big mummichogs and small sunfish into the open. I watched them each successfully catch three smallish fish, and crunch-em right up. They also scared the bejeesus out of a hen Ruddy Duck who had taken to the reeds for the night- she pattered and half-flew like an Oxyur-outta-hell to get away from the two sinuously impish beasts.

The best part was, however, hearing them breathe. And they weren’t giving their loud defensive snorts, as alarmed otters do, they were just close enough, and the evening still enough, that when they surfaced, it was possible to hear them exhale. The first exhalation upon surfacing being the loudest and most emphatic-to clear the droplets from the sealable (no pun intended) nostrils, no doubt.

Today was my favorite kind of weather for birding. While it can never be too hot for my tastes, and I do love the heat of the dog days and amazonia; 60s-70s, 98% humidity, foggy and drizzly, like that typical of Cloud Forest, a fine appalachian May morning, England, or the Olympic penninsula, this is the kind of weather I think I like best of all, particularly for birding.

A misty walk around Higbee’s revealed, among lots of Robins and Whitethroats, a bright and strikingly fresh White-eyed Vireo in the second field. The grey nape, yellow and paddy-field green of this bird were so striking, that I was rather surprised to find it retained a dull grey, and not white eye. presumably then a young of the year, but far handsomer than the ratty breeding birds of the same hedges in summer.

Also, the same tail-less and quite silly looking Common Yellowthroat persists in top of the second field. Darned thing makes me look twice each and every time I find it. We’ll see if she lingers long enough for her tail to grow in, and then departs.

A quick turn around the ponds at the state park revealed one very cooperative Cave Swallow among the hordes of Tree Swallows. The best views were to be had from the plover ponds, where the bird really put on a show. Try as I might I could not turn him into more than one though. This bird was, however intensely rufous, and while most records have apparently been of the mexican/southwestern race, given this bird’s appearance, and the predominant weather pattern of the last several days, I wonder if this may not actually be one of the Caribbean/Dade Cty birds? Stuff to ponder.

The ponds around the point are chock full of ducks, and all of them getting better looking by the day (with the exception of the Ruddy Ducks; Ruddys stay cruddy till spring). One real surprise was a smart Blue-winged Teal which flushed with some Green-wings, Shoveler, and Pintail. A good-sized raft of flighty Coot are forming in the eastern pool as well.

Just over fifty Skimmers are still hanging out near second ave, and a couple of White-winged Scoter and adult Bonaparte’s Gulls were likewise in that neighborhood as well.

While yesterday there were dozens of Bottlenosed Dolphins frolicking in the cove, today I saw nary a one-like the lone Osprey I managed today, it is time for them to be seeking better fishing grounds, I suppose. There was however, a River Otter in the eastern channel at the Meadows come sunset-This has been an exceptional year for actually getting to see these lithe and limber mustelids around here.

Also, while it was too grey and rainy for bugs (and by that I mean Leps, really) I did find a strikingly orange and red-eyed adult male Box Turtle in his prime, a most cooperative, but hardly cold-numbed, and rather large Black Rat-snake, and both the odd peeper and Grey Tree Frog were calling intermittenly this wonderfully mild and damp November day.

By far the most unexpected bird I happened upon in Cape May this grey windy day was a Great Crested Flycatcher in a yard next to Lily Lake. Try as I might, I just could not turn it into the Brown-crested I wanted it to be. The darned thing just sat there posing allowign every last feature to be well studied. It’s build eliminated Ash-throated right off the bat, and the bird was in all respects, a very bright, well-marked, picture perfect juv. Great Crested-which is actually rarer at this time of year than a western stray Myiarchus might be.

What is most likely the same Vesper Sparrow was in pretty much the same place it was yesterday at Higbee’s Beach, in the second “tower field” just near the second tower.

A flock of two dozen Wood-ducks on the little pond at Higbee’s could not have been more perfectly autumnal, or perfectly set. A Hooded Merg, and a Ring-neck were there with them, and an Orange-crowned Warbler in the Willows along the edge also livened the place up a bit.

The first Bonaparte’s Gull and Bufflehead I’ve seen this year were in the ponds at the State Park, and Coot increase daily. There were over a dozen on the Lighthouse Pond, and other small groups were in the Meadows and Lily Lake. Three Pied-billed Grebes were paling around together in the Meadows, one of which still bore the boldly patterned striped head of a fresh juvenile. Between all the ponds around the place, I managed just shy of a dozen Ring-necked Ducks all day, which, like the Coot and Bonie-gull further emphasizes the fact that winter is settling in…

And lastly smart and courting Gadwall increase daily like their Wigeon chums. Their courtship is a hoot to watch- the males throw their head, and raise themselves out of the water like Bucephalines in display-which emphasizes, as it does in Goldeneye and Bufflehead, the shape and pattern of their heads. The females act in a manner similar to hen Mallards, but are a lot more vocal, and seem to keep thier bills open while “pleisiosauring” about.

The front came through today, and with it the first really dramatic sparrow fall that I’ve seen this autumn.

Hidden Valley first thing was mercifully free of crowds, and full of birds. Between Hidden and Higbee’s I managed a couple hundred Swamp Sparrows, excellent numbers of Fields, some Savannahs, and very good numbers of Song and White-throats. However the real show stoppers were the five Vesper Sparrows in the first tower field at Higbee’s. Especially considering that this is pretty crappy Vesper habitat!

A Red-headed Woodpecker in the back by the pond at Higbee’s was very nice, and I hear that decent numbers of Creepers were in the tall forest along the dunes. A handful of Eastern Bluebirds and Rusty Blackbirds were also fine flybys.

A bit of Sewatching was most excellent from St. Marys. At one point a large flock of Pintail with some Black ducks circled, and came in to roost with a raft of Scoter about halfway across the Bay! Pintail coming in to land on the ocean is indeed a sight. While I am used to seeing flocks of Teal do this, especially at Avalon, it was indeed odd to see Pintail landing on the open ocean.

Parasitic Jaegers were easy to see, including a very close dark morph juv, and a stunning light morph adult. Most surprising was a Purple Sandpiper which landed on the jetty with a small to join a small group of Dunlin. The boldly coloured, bright orange-based bill and legs made the monochromatic Dunlin seem rendered in black and white, while the Purple glowed in technicolor-an artefact imparted with the help of the cloud-filtered light and the dark grey backdrop.

The most surprising bird revealed by a turn around the Point proper, was an Ovenbird in the yard just past the CMPT municipal building.

Having not been able to bird at all for five whole days really, I am sure glad I got out the last four-they have been nothing less than spectacular here in Cape May. And the weather has been a delight as well- Wilson’s famous comment seems a lot less metaphoric-the climate has been fabulous, and the volume and quality of birds likewise.

As I write, in the middle of a drizzly night- there are impressive flocks of low-flying Snow Geese headed over, as well as a decent number of night herons. The reflected city lights iluminating their undersides in a most phantasmgorical way- facts which certainly liven up anyone’s walk home on an October evening!

And finally, I would like to draw readers attention to a comment I recieved today on a post from Sept. 16th. Apparently the senior administrators at CMBO are paid by the duped membership to do unnecessary, and some might say destructive, “yard work” on property they have no business maintaining in the first place. Just how kooky this idea is was brought to my attention by a reader, and I was glad they did, cause his thoughts happened to have been mine exactly, and I probably wouldn’t have mentioned it otherwise! Senior staff hauling brush on state property, on a work day, and getting paid a pretty penny to do it has absolutely nothing to do with the membership dollars which pay them to execute NJAS’ mission. Punto.

What a waste.

There was a decent little push of Warblers and other Passerines this morning from the Dike at Higbee’s Beach, but not nearly the numbers or diversity as yesterday.

However, there were a couple of Philadelphia Vireos, and another Red-breasted Nuthatch. Also, Eastern Phoebes have begun to trickle in beign at the Dike, the Park and Pond Creek. Likewise Brown Thrashers have noticeably increased, as have Catbirds. The best showing of Warblers was definitely manifested by Yellowthroats, which were the dominant species everywhere I looked today. Palms and Savannah Sparrows likewise increase daily.

A hen Scaup has turned up on the Bunker Pond, which is a very odd time of year for a Scaup to be in these parts. Her head is not as rounded for a greater as I would like, showing a bit of a flat-top more like a lesser. However, her wing-stripe is more in keeping with a Greater, the bright white extending well out into the primaries, a fact which was glaring when she flew, but only fleetingly glimpsed when she reared up. With luck she’ll remain a bit longer, as I’d like to have a closer look at her bill. I should’ve doen it today, but got far too caught up in shooting the breeze, and forgot to go look!

The other thing I don’t like in temrs of it being a Lesser is more of a “soft”" character, and that is timing. Lessers tend to move south later than Greaters, but since any scaup is a bit unusual in Cape May in September, putting this bird almost in the realm of vagrant, and they do overlap in timing anyway, this fact admittedly is of comparatively little import for the bird’s idnetification.

I do however think the jump to call her a Lesser, especially by those who did not see her open wings, may be a bit premature. Vamos a ver.

Eagles again put on a good show at the Hawkwatch, and Merlins were very easy to see today. A couple of Nighthawks were out and about at Sunset, and Great horned Owls were giving their peculiar screeches from the woods where the park, I wonder if these are young birds still hoping for food.

And the listing mania which has overtaken these parts has reached truly absurd levels.

The degree of big-list mania around here of late takes a step past obsessive & competitive, and lands firmly in the creepily pathological, even aggressive, and confirmedly passive aggressive. In a way that other compulsive listers I know well never manifested. For one thing, it seems a joyless pursuit for those so engaged, and for another, it seems like all other aspects of the hobby, have fallen by the wayside in favour of what Peterson termed mere “ornithogolfing”.

Promoting the “big day”, an activity endemic and essential to CMBO since the WSB, seems to be all they know how to do any more. It takes precedence over whoring for optics companies, and taking peoples money for “education” in the guise of quided bird tours labeled as educational workshops.

I also tend to think big day-type listing causes a certain sloppiness (not that I am really one to judge!), or at least wishful inaccuracies. There have been numerous putative ticks of late which very easily became definitive by those only concerned with making their list larger.

Likewise, it seems that if every day, week, month or year is a “big” one, then what is so very “big” about it? If every day was Christmas, or once a month we were expected to stay up till midnight with noise makers to ring in the new moon, then would Decembers 25 or 31 have any meaning? I am reminded of the song lyric: “Life is made of moments- even now and then a bad one. But if life were ONLY moments, then you’d never know you had one”

And, as someone is alleged to have said:

“Listing and chasing are to bird-watching what masturbation is to love-making”

Judgeing from the obsessive amount of listing currently going on in Cape May, it would seem there are few Cassanovas, and an inordinate number of very frustated, spotty-faced teenagers birding around Cape Island this year.

Firstly, apologies for a lack of updates-it is that busy time of year, with little time for living, let alone writing. Following are a couple of thoughts from the week past (which, from the protestations of readers, one would think was an eternity! Kidding aside, I extend a sincere “Thank you”, it is nice to know that folks are reading, and the disappointment voiced by a lack of updates is certainly flattering!)

By far the most inteteresting thing I saw as a result of Tropical Storm Hannah was a Manta Ray (!!!) which breached three times just off South Cape May on Saturday. The first spalsh was all I saw at first, which I automatically assumed was a result of a cetacean or five. When the culprit leapt again, I (nearly) involuntarily yelled a resounding “Wholly SHIT!! as it was clearly a nice-sized Manta, with a disk spanning approximately 8 feet or so. I’ve never seen a Manta Ray in Jersey, and never seen one from shore ever. The flattened “horns”, wire-thin tail, and perfectly bi-coloured pattern were easy to see, albeit in mid air- the impressive animal cleared the water completely. I was most surprised, as the water has only recently gotten into the seventies.

The other really surprising sighting I’ve had during the last week was of an Eastern Mole, which, before the rain of this weekend, must’ve been driven in desperation by hunger, and dry, compacted soil to the surface.

Prior to Hannah, the last time it rained in Cape May was the tenth of August, believe it or not, and I imagine the Mole was having a hard time finding subterannean earthworms. It was squirming around in the grass, using its fossorially adapted form to sort of swim/burrow through the matted roots and stems. A free-ranging, live mole above ground is a rare sight, and despite the numerous Mole-hills seen and stepped on daily, this is the first one I’ve ever seen like this at Higbee’s. Just shows to go you what novelties one can find, even in the most familiar and well-trodden of patches.

Likewise, the day after the storm, the biggest thrill I got was out of a Silver-haired Bat which flew over the ponds at the point, while I was admiring Buff-breasted Sandpipers with some friends. A largish bat, and though not a Lasiurus proper (bring a Lasionectyris), still in the group of vespertillionids commonly refered to as “leaf-bats”. The large-size, dark pelage, angled, Tringa-like wrist, and confident flight style all readily identified the solitary limb-rooster.

Now the last time I was able to hoof out to Stone Harbor Point was Thursday last, and there was still a large creche of Royal Terns waddling around Champagne Island. I suppose the Cape May birding mafia is entirely too engaged in the masturbatory exercises of rarity hunting, compulsive web-site promotion, and photo-posting to actually pay attention to nature in these parts to care…..

While last year the colony was too small to produce a proper creche, last week there was a group of 60-80 waddling around, like a proper Royal Tern Colony. For those who may not be acquainted with the breeding biology of Royals, they are a communal, altruistic species, and the adults surround the flightless nestling, in a defensive “herd” which travels with the colonie’s earth-bound young. They are fed by everyone. Kind of like the groups of young penguins one sees on nature shows…but not quite.

Despite the hype, tropical storm Hannah produced next to nothing compared to other storms which were completely ignored by birdwatchers recently and unashamedly trying to make names for themselves in Cape May. While I hear there were a very few of the “tropical” Terns after I left Sunset Blvd. a darkish juv Pomarine-type Jaeger was the only storm waif of note I saw on Sunday.

And while I left for work before a Frigate occurred at Higbee’s this morning, and very much should’ve liked to have seen it, a few Sternas and a frigate make for a pretty lame storm-bird total! Frigates are a casual occurence which one may expect in NJ after any good bout of southerlies, really.

The real show was the incredibe American Redstart flight at Higbee’s this morning. If there was one there was easily a thousand. Red-eyed Vireos had a decent flight as well. Other noteworthies included Dickcissel, a Golden-wing, Connecticut, and some spectacular views of Blackburnians, Black-throated Greens, Chestnut-sideds, BT- Blues, Cape Mays, Nashvilles, etc. etc…

Otherwise, and in no particualr order, Egrets and Herons have been around the point in impressive numbers. Waterfowl increase daily, with Shovelers, Green-winged Teal and Wigeon turning up with greater frequency, and Blue-winged Teal in impressive numbers. Eastern Kingbirds have diminshed to a trickle while Bobolinks are still going strong. Empids have well-passed their peak, and despite a nice showing of Yellow-bellieds late last week, have been replaced by Pewees. Great Crests are also scarce. Pectoral Sandpipers are difficult to miss, a handsome Juv. Baird’s Sandpiper had been hanging around, until recently, Buff-brested’s are on the dry beach Grass, and CMBO and continues to obviously be threatened by its own incompetence, and my mere presence.

As has been observed by many, Cape May is hardly what it once was. I am reminded of the “Reign of Thirty Tyrants”, the period which followed the glories of the Julio-claudians and Flavians, in Rome. Without Sibleys and Lehmans, and with most of the better birders and naturalists either eschewing the nasty birding “scene” or being too busy traveling for tours (or like myself, just plain earning a living) the current Cape May birding establishment of CMBO/NJAS is clearly suffering from the effects of its own mediocrity, and I may say, the pathologies of its research associates, Shop-keepers, and other administrators and directors.

Pity really.

keep looking »

Recently Written

• Excellent Bayshore Birding: Lots of Shorebirds, Gulls, Silly numbers of Turkeys, and a Vesper Sparrow
• Dolphins, a Brown Pelican, A Cape Island Yellow-throated Warbler and a nice little “fall” around the point in the mist
• Some Eagle notes, etc.
• LAGU in Cape May, and a few other early spring notes
• After the snow in Cape May
• Lots and lots of ducks around Cape May
• Flowering Maples
• News and Notes from Cape May; Black-headed Gull, White-winged Crossbills, continuing Eurasian Wigeon, etc.
• Some nice looks at Short-eared Owls, etc.
• A seal, a balmy day, and the colour of a randy Mallards feet

Categories

• Beach Nesters
• behaviour
• birding norms
• Black Skimmers
• Breeding Birds
• Butterflies
• Champagne Island
• conservation
• Fall Migration
• Fish Crows
• Gulls
• Hawks
• Herons
• Herps
• ID
• Jaegers
• Mammals
• Not-birds
• Owls
• Piping Plovers
• raptors
• Rarities
• Royal Terns
• Rusty Blackbirds
• Seawatching
• Shorebirds
• Spring Migration
• Terns
• Uncategorized
• Warblers
• Waterfowl
• Winter Birds

Archives

• April 2009
• March 2009
• February 2009
• January 2009
• December 2008
• November 2008
• October 2008
• September 2008
• August 2008
• July 2008
• June 2008
• May 2008
• April 2008

Blogroll

• ABA “Peeps” - excellent birding updates from the American Birding Association
• American Bird Conservancy - dedicated to bird conservation
• American Museum of Natural History - specimen-based evolutionary, & biological research at its finest
• American Ornithologists Union
• Art & Science Collaborations, Inc. (ASCI) - Collaborations in…you guessed it!
• Ben Johnson Art - some fine photo-realism from a local artist
• Bent’s Life Histories-familiar birds - an edited and synoptic version of Bent’s volumes, an invaluable resource nevertheless
• Bill Hubick Photography - exceptional photos and website from a fine fellow
• Birdlife International - world bird conservation at large
• Conserve Wildlife Foundation of NJ - people who actually work hard on conservation in NJ
• ebird
• Huffington Post - commentary by reasonable Americans
• New Jersey birding - Birding in NJ
• Pioneer Birding - excelent blog from the commonwealth and beyond
• Point Reyes Bird Observatory Conservation Science - a legitimate Bird Observatory
• Portland Bird Observatory and Field Centre - another legitimate Bird Observatory
• Punkbirder-the unsound approach - We need a lot more “punk-birding” here in the States
• Save the Albatross - if 100,000 people were slaughtered per year, we’d call it genocide…
• Shorebirder - nice blog from CT
• Sibley Guides Notebook - better than the artwork even
• Smithsonian Migratory Bird Center - Dedicated to research for migratory birds
• Surfbirds - world birding news
• The Nietzsche Family Circus - “Beyond Good & Evil”-just hilarious juxtapositions
• The Onion - America’s “finest” news source-brilliant satire
• The Story of Stuff - will make you never want to shop again…

Admin

• Login
• Wordpress
• XHTML

Search