Life bird

[vaneramos]

This morning I took djjo to Leslie Street Spit, one of the best locations in Toronto for viewing migratory birds. I haven't done much recreational birding the past few years, and need to hone my visual and auditory skills in preparation for the Breeding Bird Survey in late June. I had never spent time there before, and it was a rewarding morning.

The nice thing about spring running late is, trees haven't leafed out yet so birds are easy to see. I had the opportunity to show Danny a few lovely little critters. Counting birds in the woods around Summer Solstice will be another experience altogether.

Here are the species (35) I observed: Canada Goose, Mute Swan, Mallard, Double-Crested Cormorant, Killdeer, Ring-Billed Gull, Common Tern, Mourning Dove, Chimney Swift, Least Flycatcher, American Crow, Tree Swallow, Barn Swallow, Ruby-Crowned Kinglet, Wood Thrush, American Robin, Brown Thrasher, Yellow Warbler, Black-Throated Green Warbler, Palm Warbler, Black-and-White Warbler, Northern Waterthrush, Song Sparrow, White-Throated Sparrow, Northern Cardinal, Rose-Breasted Grosbeak, Red-Winged Blackbird, Eastern Meadowlark, Common Grackle, Brown-Headed Cowbird, House Finch, American Goldfinch, House Sparrow.

So there was a lot of nice stuff, but nothing particularly unusual in the poplars near the base of the spit. But as we ventured further along the shoreline facing the marina, I spotted some unusual ducks diving. My excitement grew as I got better and better glimpses. It turned out to be a pair of Long-Tailed Ducks (formerly known as Oldsquaws), which are not uncommon but spend most of the year offshore, away from view—a life bird for me. They were hanging out with a pair of Greater Scaups, diving and resurfacing repeatedly. The stayed still long enough for Danny to get a good look through the binoculars at their peculiar and elegant plumage, and we watched them for a good five minutes.

A life bird is a species one has never seen in the wild before and observes for the first time. Too often these experiences are fleeting or unsatisfactory. I've had unusual birds sing identifiable songs from a thicket, but never emerge for viewing. Or they appeared barely long enough to reveal a distinctive feature, then vanished. So this was a real meat-and-potatoes lifer: a pair in clear light around 11:30 on a matchless spring morning, acting as if they took joy in the pleasure they bestowed, not actually watching us, but simply going about their duck business.