a round of applause for the Clapper

For the first time since the high spring tides earlier this month, I ventured directly out into the marsh early this morning and was astonished to see a Clapper Rail sunning himself (herself?) and doing her or his toilette rjght out in the open on the mats of last year's reeds that are now covering this part of the marsh. And then, to my even greater amazement, a second bird popped up from a nearby hole in the mat and proceeded to join in. All this activity was perhaps 15 or 20 feet in front of me. Not only were both the birds and myself completely in the open, they showed no sign of disturbance or nervousness at my presence! (Yes there was some spotty sunshine before the heavier cloud cover moved in.

Two -- count 'em -- two Clapper Rails! I can't say for sure if these were a male and female pair (one had a slightly brighter bill but they otherwise appeared to be identical). They could, of course, be drop-in migrants but given the loudly calling bird a few days ago, the nesting history of this species in nearby marshes, and the comfort of these two birds with each other, they are more likely to be locals! Eventually I tried moving very slowly as I circled out and around, continuing to keep them under observation. At first they continued to go about their business, appearing to totally ignore me. Finally they picked themselves up and, one after the other, slowly and with calm dignity, sauntered into the dense standing reeds behind and disappeared.

Didn't see or hear the Willets but a Spotted Sandpiper was working the shore, a Great Blue Heron flew high across the creek and Common and Forster's Terns continued to quarter the creek looking for bait fish.

On land, a small flock of warblers came through the oak canopy with Black-throated Blue, Yellow and Parula among them. Other warblers seen were Black-and white and a handsome male American Redstart foraging unexpectedly at eye level in some dense foliage. While the Redstart is usually higher up, a Common Yellowthroat, normally a bird of low-down thickets, was singing his heart out from the highest perch he could find: the top of a dead tree near the head of the marsh. The Yellowthroat's song normally carries quite well from inside the bushes but this bird's tree-top spot insured that his song was broadcast far and wide.

Two more birds worthy of mention: a Hairy Woodpecker in the dead trees in front of the house and a returning Great Crested Flycatcher calling in the healthy and developing oak woods just behind. 

Eric Salzman