Lesser Black-Backed Gull - breeding plumage
Photo - courtesy, Ian Butler
Ian is a professional photographer from England
You can see more of his wonderful photography at www.ianbutlerphotography.co.uk
This article was published in November 1995. Click on the blue title for more. See end of article for this week's field trip.
I don't do grits. I don't cook them, and I don't eat
them. My experience with grits is that they make a great "extender''
(uncooked, of course) for a dish called "bird pudding,'' (the recipe for which
appeared in "A Year With Judy Toups" – Jan 1st 2016).Except for being part of my bird pudding recipe, grits
have nothing to do with birds. But my feelings about grits are analogous to the
feelings some people have about certain groups of birds.
I hear it all the time -- same tune, different words. "I don't do sandpipers.'' "Hawks are always too far away.'' "I never look at
sparrows.'' "I ignore any flycatcher smaller than five inches.'' "Immature
hummingbirds are impossible, so I don't try.'' "All gulls look alike.''
For as many seasons as I've had students in tow, I have
used many a subtle ploy or dirty deception to get them to try sandpipers,
hawks, sparrows, flycatchers, female hummingbirds and any gull of any age,
size, sex or geographical persuasion. This is sort of like hiding the grits
under the eggs.
Most often, the ruse is discovered before the first
bite. There will be a collective turn-off at the sight of 1,000 back-lighted
sandpipers or a bird of prey soaring into the sun at the limits of conjecture.
There'll be studied indifference to huddled masses of gulls.
Every now and then, though, one of those turn-off birds
will be the answer to a leader's prayer. It becomes the bird that puts the
gloss on a day in the field. In some cases, it becomes the bird that saves a
months-long session.
It may be the Marbled Godwit that puts all sandpipers in
a new light. It may be the Red-tailed Hawk that actually shows off its black
patagial marks. It may be the immature hummingbird with sun glinting off emerging
purple gorget feathers. It may be the gull that cannot be ignored.
That's what happened on Sunday afternoon, a time given
over to "beach birding". We weren't exactly coming up empty, but it wasn't
the best of days, either. The Dunlins flew off before they could be studied,
and the color of the Snowy Plover's legs seemed to change from light to dark.
There were no Caspian Terns where there should have been, and we missed the
Piping Plover altogether.
Like too many other days during this fall session, which
started way back in August, birds -- the specific birds I wanted for live
instruction on why they are or why they are not Magnolia Warblers,
White-crowned Sparrows or Franklin's Gulls -- were in short supply. I had
promised more birds than I had delivered. As improbable as it may sound, I felt
responsible.
I had taken my small group of intent and intelligent
(and absolutely delightful) learners to all my favorite places in three
counties and always felt that there was a shortfall of birds in the places
where they should have been.
So there we were, on Sunday afternoon, making rapid
progress down the beach between Long Beach and our ending point at the
Broadwater Marina. We were making such rapid progress because the beach,
despite miles of exposed tidal flats, was virtually devoid of birds, except for
those we had seen many times over. I mean, how many Brown Pelicans must one see
to be able to say, "Yes, I know a Brown Pelican.'' How many Sanderlings to be
convinced that they deserve the appellation of "little wind-up toys.''
The west side of Broadwater is a good spot from which to look for birds. And there were birds there: lots of Willets and
Sanderlings and Dunlins. A Great Blue Heron or two. Black Skimmers. Hordes of
Laughing Gulls. A Herring Gull. A few Ring-billed Gulls.
This last-ditch effort on the last-ditch day of learning
birds "a la Toups'' was about to end, not in a burst of glory but in a maze of
mostly back-lighted birds. One good bird would save the session.
In fairness to a wonderful group of students, my
perception that the birding this fall has been dismal was not one they shared.
But I had promised so much, and I felt that I had let them down.
It was then that I saw him, the one gull among thousands
that I recognized as an individual. The one (could it have been him??) I have
known since March of 1983, when he was 3 years old, and I was not yet a senior
citizen. It was Les Black, the sexy European, a gull among gulls in this
geographical corner of the bird world. And he was just there, in good light,
moving only enough to come front and center, flaunting that bright yellow bill
with the red spot on it, the bright yellow legs.
We saw him. We studied him until the light began to
fade. I saw a new appreciation for gulls in their faces. And I told them this
capsule version of the Les Black story:
The Lesser Black-backed Gull is accidental here on the
Gulf Coast. (Editorial note 2016: Currently the LBBG, though of European
origin, occurs regularly in North America but in 1995, when this article was
written, its status was as described.”). I recalled the excitement the day that Mickey Baker,
Marianne Towell and I found Mississippi's first, in the Least Tern nesting area
south of the U.S. Naval Home. It stayed for two weeks, during which time,
everyone with an interest in gulls came to see it. A little black mark on its
bill identified it as a gull in third winter plumage, thus we were able to know
how old it was.
When one wintered in the same place the following two
years, we wondered if it was the same individual and we named it Les Black
(though it may easily be a Leslie). He became my sentimental favorite.
And it became a November odyssey to look for Les. As the
years went by, the looking was fraught with worry. How old is too old for a
gull to make another winter sojourn in the Deep South? If this IS Les Black he/she is approaching
16 years, and has spent at least
13 of his winters with us.
I had made an empty search just two days prior to last
Sunday, and I was beginning to think we had seen the last of Les. But he's a
mighty gull, and I should have known better.
So
here's to a gull who makes me look good. Thanks Les, and welcome home.
All are welcome on Mississippi Coast Audubon Field Trips...
but they are almost over for 2016!
Saturday November 26, 2016: Graveline Beach, Jackson County
Great combination of beach and marsh habitat rich in shorebirds, waders, marsh inhabitants, and more.
Place and Time: E end of Beach Boulevard, Ocean Springs (St Andrews area, MAP) 7:30 AM.
Conditions: This trip involves a 3/4 mile walk up the beach and return. No restrooms. Plenty of parking.
JUST ONE MORE TRIP - GRAND BAY NERR Dec 3 - check it out at mscoastaudubon.org
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