Birders
On Saturday, I had a not too serious day of birding in Durham with some nice finds.
I did not get up early Saturday by the standards of May or my dogs, in large part because I had landed in Manchester at 2 AM Friday morning. Had I known about Jane, Steve, and Aston's Big Day, I would have had them pick me up and take me along. Warblers were pretty slow in the neighborhood, but I had the pleasure of seeing a Green Heron about 30 feet up in a tree near the little pond at our park (then it flew to a neighbor's tree, also quite high up). At 49 species and with a nice day in store, I figured that I'd see what I could find in town without having to attend graduation for a 4-hour chunk of the day.
A stop at Oyster River Forest got me to 15 warblers and 7 flycatchers (Willow and Alder had returned), which was where I ended the day for both groups. Clearly I need to learn to quit while I'm ahead. The day progressed with odds and ends, like an Orchard Oriole at Spinney Lane right after I picked up a crushed can to recycle (trash karma seems like a real thing this month), ravens at the US 4 bridge (but no eiders this week), a mockingbird at the UNH Gables dorms (I was determined to find one before their bed time at 7:30), marsh wren and Virginia Rail at Surrey Lane Marsh, and meadowlark at Moore Fields.
Moore Fields produced two nice finds, a pair of pipits on the dirt field and then agitated geese, which led me to turn around to watch an adult bald eagle cruising over the field, which was #99 for the day. I had a long list of possible adds to make 100, but whiffed on most of them until I finally heard wheezing at Thompson Forest; after confirming that it wasn't me doing the wheezing, I located a gnatcatcher for 100.
At dinner, my wife asked how many I had seen, and I reported 100. She asked if I was done for the day, and I noted that my goal now was 103, because no one ever picks prime numbers for their target. Whatever you imagine about the look she gave me, you are correct. I had some ideas for what might get me to the magic 103 and headed to the state WMA on Bennett Road, where I picked up Woodcock and my only Swainson's Thrush. After 15 more minutes, I decided that I was stuck at 102 and started back to my car in ignominious defeat. Lo, a Whip-poor-will started chanting loud and clear from somewhere nearby. An unexpected and prime bird to end the day.
