My Birding World

Summer is a dull time for birding. The birds are quiet and it’s hot with a migraine-inducing sun glare. That’s why I was excited for an upcoming Ohlone Audubon Society field trip in the cooler evening – the first field trip in a while. Shorebird migration is starting up and the trip would bring us to the bay. I was super excited to learn more about peeps and sandpipers from the experts.

My stomach had other mischievous plans.

Too weak to go birding, I resigned myself to birding a local spot with less walking. I struggled with the disappointment of missing out on the trip.

At home, I hesitantly scanned Facebook and rare bird alerts hoping I didn’t miss out on anything cool. The alerts starting pouring in by the evening. Bar-tailed Godwit. Damn. These Alaskan breeders spend the rest of their time in Russia and Scandinavia. What a bummer bird to miss!

Each day I carefully read through the rare bird alerts, noting the time, the bird’s preference for high tide, various locations she was spotted, and her behavior. I hoped that she would continue to be there until Friday – the first opportunity I would have to stop by.

Friday came and I carefully crafted the day so that we would end up at Hayward Regional Shoreline between 4-5 PM. That’s when the earliest checklists started. High tide would peak around 7:30 PM. We were set. After a morning and mid-afternoon in the Fremont area, we drove up towards Hayward.

“Did you grab the tripod?” I asked Gabe?

“Yup!”

“How about the scope?”

“Yup! Wait, scope? Where was the scope?” Crap. I forgot to put the scope with the rest of the birding supplies. How can we look for shorebirds without a scope? I reasoned with myself that there would be plenty of other birders with scopes available to peek through.

We arrived at Hayward Regional Shoreline, geared up, and rushed over to Frank’s Dump. There wasn’t much there except a few gulls. Then some peeps showed up! But oh dear, I can’t see anything with the binoculars. They were too far away. I feel the swell of disappointment again and I sat down and pouted as I grappled with next steps. I finally agreed to take Gabe’s advice to try out a different pond nearby. On the way there, I saw a birder off in the distance. A scope, oh good! Hey wait, is that Jerry?

We ran into our local birder celebrity. We were bound to find this godwit!

He pointed out a Snowy Plover family. He found us a Red Knot, a lifer. And we scanned and scanned and scanned the hundreds of willets, dowitchers, and Marbled Godwits for that one special lady. After a while, Jerry left since he had already been birding there for three hours prior to our meeting. No Bar-tailed Godwit had been found yet, but he thought that she might fly in by high tide.

The waves broke against the rocks and splashed our clothes. I was suddenly very aware that I only had my sun shirt on with no jacket to help against the cooling air. I was also starting to regret my decision to leave my regular prescriptions glasses in the car, opting instead to wear my sunglasses. That made birding harder as the sun went down.

Arms stiff from holding binoculars up to our eyes, cold and clammy from the sea spray, and hair tangled into a rat’s nest from the heavy winds, we started to grow weary. The birds were all blending together into a muddled mess of grays and browns.  Small groups kept joining the crowd which forced us to rescan the entire area. After two more hours of scanning, we threw in the towel and headed towards the car.

The godwit was never spotted again. We missed her by a day. At least it gave us a good story to tell!