Throw-back Thursday-- a Story about Discovering the Unexpected in 2015

          I am the kind of birder who likes to discover birds on my own without “chasing” birds others have already found.  Don’t get me wrong – I am all for sharing sightings with others and spreading the joy of birding with others.  But sometimes I just like that feeling that comes from discovering something totally unexpected.  Something like that happened on Sunday February 15^th 2015.

          I was in California for work and had a couple hours to bird around Monterrey before meeting colleagues in the afternoon. 

Surf breaking on the south side of Monterrey Bay, California.

Photo Credit: Jody Enck

From about 7am to 8:30 or so, I had the good fortune to bird with a couple of acquaintances at Point Pinos in Monterrey.  We could see many hundreds of birds in the Bay, along with several Gray Whales not far off-shore.  I enjoyed learning how to identify the relatively dainty Black-vented Shearwaters, the small, loose groups of Common Murres, and the usually-single, darkish, chunky flying footballs that were Rhinoceros Auklets.  We also had fun distinguishing between Double-crested, Pelagic, and Brandt’s Cormorants, as well as a half-dozen species of Gulls.

          At the end of our time together, my friend Brian asked if there were any bird species that I’d really like to see.  I let on that I had never seen a Surfbird.  Quickly looking in my field notebook, I also noted that my next bird would be #500 for the U.S. for me.  Brian smiled that wry smile that a knowing birder smiles and said that we surely could locate a Surfbird just down the rocky shoreline.  Ten minutes later we were enjoying close, long views through a scope of a Surfbird about 30 yards away.  Number 500 in the U.S. left me feeling very happy.  After watching it for a few minutes, Brian and parted ways and I continued exploring for birds.

          Just a few minutes later, I was having fun watching a large

Sanderlings roosting on rocks just offshore from Monterrey,

California.  Photo Credit: Jody Enck.

flock of Sanderlings asleep with heads tucked onto their backs while roosting with dozens of Black-bellied Plovers on a large rock sticking up above the crashing surf.  I had never seen Sanderlings anywhere other than running just ahead of the incoming surf on a sandy beach, so the new experience was thrilling to me.  I was feeling more and more confident in picking out different species, including a few diminutive Mew Gulls from the more common Ring-billed and California Gulls.         

          Suddenly, my scope settled on a bird that I knew I had never

Part of the drawing I made in my field notebook of the mystery bird.

Photo Credit: Jody Enck.  

seen before.  In fact, the sighting left me really perplexed as my brain scrambled to make sense out of this part Surfbird, part Mourning Dove, part who-knows-what bird I was seeing.  In the field, I like to just t carry a field notebook to record my sightings.  So, I drew a picture in my notebook that any kindergartner would be proud of, and took copious notes.  I even managed a diagnostic picture through my scope with a point and shoot camera of this bird standing near a Surfbird and Black-bellied Plover.

Mystery bird on left, Surfbird in center, and Black-bellied Plover on right.  Photo Credit: Jody Enck. 

          My confused brain made sense of it in this way in my field notebook:
   "Medium-small shorebird.  Smaller and slimmer than Surfbird.  Medium dark gray virtually all over on head, neck, back, wings and tail, and on breast and flanks.  Whitish chin.  Longish bill -- 2x as long as Surfbird.  Bill Grayish but darker toward tip.  Yellow legs and feet like Surfbird.  Head all gray, but with dark line from bill through eye.  White above this dark line as well as below eye.  Wings longer than tail.  Folded primaries appear to be darker gray or black tipped.  Belly and vent lighter gray than rest of body."

          It wasn’t until later that night after I met with colleagues for the afternoon work program that I had time to look more closely at my pictures and field notes and study my field guide.  I still remember the surprise on my face – complete with wide open mouth – when I realized that I had discovered a Wandering Tattler

A Wandering Tattler discovered by a wandering birder. 

Photo Credit: Jody Enck.

on my own.  These birds are rare but certainly expected in winter along the California Coast.  How rare or common it was didn’t really matter to me, though.  What mattered was that I discovered a bird on my own that had not even been on my radar screen.  It was completely unexpected and the experience left me feeling like I had just discovered a whole new world.