Date: 3/3/25 4:20 am From: CHELEMER, MARC J <mc2496...> Subject: [JERSEYBI] Magical morning at Stone Harbor
Dear readers:
A couple weeks ago, I visited Stone Harbor to walk the wet edges of this windswept landscape in search of marsh sparrows. It was a dismal failure: three hours of traipsing through the wet grasses and reeds on the cove side yielded exactly one Seaside Sparrow. I had to wonder: was it because it was low tide? Was it because the weather was inclement (it rained much of the second half of the three hours)? Was it because my eyes are just not adept at catching the tiny movements of ammodramus sparrows in the reeds? It had been a profound disappointment.
Saturday, I decided to try again, spurred on by a recent e-Bird checklist which indicated the marsh sparrows were still around. It was extremely high tide (one could barely walk down the beach, as the surf was all the way up to the low grassy dunes). The weather was fine. And oh my did that a huge difference make! Within a few minutes of scuff through the marsh grasses right at the point where the tidewaters kept the rest of the marsh flooded, I came upon four sparrows scuttling about in low bushes. One Nelson's, three Saltmarsh. Hey presto! But then, ten minutes later and further down the marsh, in one of those birding moments that take one's breath away, I came upon another small bush near the interface between wet marsh and dune, and there were SIXTEEN birds in it: seven Seaside Sparrows, the rest a mixture of Nelson's and Saltmarsh. The birds sat quietly, looking around, hopping lightly from one perch to another, but never flying away, and evidently not bothered by me. I couldn't have been more than twenty feet away, and stood, mesmerized, taking in this micro-avian spectacle.
After a quarter of an hour, I decided to move on, and made a wide circle around the bush to head further south down the peninsula. There, I observed, far off, a Short-eared Owl flying around. Later still, a flock of Snow Buntings flew in. I 'scoped them, as at least one was back in breeding plumage and I wanted to enjoy its brilliant black-and-white color. But as I panned the dunes, looking for the black-and-white Bunting, what came into view was a Lapland Longspur, lit up by the bright sun and so crystal clear that I could actually see the long hind talon.
Further down the peninsula, the shorebirds were flocking together and I found one Long-billed Dowitcher among the Black-bellied Plovers and Dunlin. It, too, was in fine light and offered long looks as it preened and prepared for its day.
Elated at the birding, but having reached the end of the trek, I turned back. Wouldn't you know, the "sparrow bush" was still full! I watched them again for awhile, and then moved on. Further towards the northern end, I crested a small rise in the marsh and TWO Short-eared Owls vaulted into the air from their ground roost. Then, at the very end of the walk, a birder from Delaware I'd met and chatted with months ago at the southern end of Stone Harbor, on a day when I'd gone to look for Sandwich Terns, recognized me and said Hello. What were the chances she'd be back birding this spot on exactly the same day I was there...and would recognize me in my winter hat and gloves and thick coat (it had been high summer that first day and I'd been dressed very differently!)? To top it off, as we walked the cove together during our conversation, an American Bittern flew by, the last bird of the morning.
It was "only" 40 species for the four hours I was there, but having all those sparrows so close, so calm, and so well-lit in one bush, plus hunting diurnal owls, the perfect Longspur, the perfect Dowitcher, and a flying Bittern made for one of those mornings that live in memory for years to come.
