ONE FOR THE BIRDS

As the Senate prepares for nuclear meltdown, the new "Energy Bill" wends its way through Congress, the roadless forest rule passed by Clinton is rescinded by Bush - leaving formerly pristine forests now open for logging and mining by the Fat Cats who control our government - we try to protect and enjoy what remains to us of natural space, land preserved as habitat for plants, birds, animals and as a glimpse of the wonders of creation for us, its sad destroyers.  Robin, of Midlife Matters, just sent around a wonderful post from her weekend in Ohio, and I'd like to share the birding trip G and I had Saturday.  We went with a small group led by a naturalist from the Cape Henlopen State Park Nature Center to a place we'd never heard of, Thompson's Island.  To get there we had to wend our way through a condo complex between Rehoboth Beach and Dewey Beach.  The preserve, which Richard - our naturalist - says is part of the State Parks land, encompasses forests, marshes and wetlands, and the banks of the RB/Lewes Canal. 

As we went through the first part of the forest, we heard many many birds calling, but the canopy was too thick to see much.  At one point the canopy opened up, and the warblers were so numerous we couldn't decide where to look first.  The canopy was high, and the sky a hazy grey that produces unfortunate backlighting.  Even so, we saw black and whites, American redstarts, a female summer tanager, yellow-rumps (butter-butts), one black-throated green, and pine warblers. 

When we got to the water there were many common terns gracefully looping and diving, yellow-legs, dowitchers, one spotted sandpiper on the mudflats, a couple of great blue herons, a green heron, a louisiana tricolor heron, clapper rails constantly heard in the grasses, but never seen.  There was a wonderful osprey sitting on a snag very close to us, guarding his nest in the marsh at the edge of the woods. Two osprey also flew overhead, one carrying home some lunch.  At one point, to everyone's surprise, a bald eagle flew overhead - quite low - going so fast it took our breath away.  He was on a very definite mission.  There were several pair of eastern king birds in the trees near the marsh, squabbling over territory, as it seemed. 

For me the best moment of the trip was coming across a pair of tree swallows building a nest in a cavity in a snag, just off the trail.  They were both flying in and out with strands of dried grasses, taking turns sitting on top of another snag in the sunlight, thinking about decor, I guess.  The male was so shiningly blue in the sunlight; I've never seen one so blue.                          

   Tree swallow on fence.

As we returned - an hour over the time we were supposed to have spent - through the woods we first heard, then saw, several red-bellied woodpeckers.  For a birding farewell, just before we came out of the woods into the parking lot, there was a red-eyed vireo flitting around in the branches right above us - we first heard, then saw it also. 

I'm sure I have forgotten some of what we saw  - G kept the list, and I don't quite know where it is right now.  Though we were very close to human habitation, and much too close to boats coming down the canal ignoring the "no wake" request, it felt magically apart from all that.  Had we seen no birds to speak of, it still would have been a wonderful morning.  But we saw so many, heard many more, got muddy feet, mosquito bites  (and G found a tick this morning, two days later, though we had assiduously searched our bodies for them ASAP), knew we were in a place that has been saved from condos, marinas, giant beach houses, kept safe for small shining birds to peacefully build nests in hollow trees.