The Urban Pantheist

This set of pictures was taken at Crane Beach in Ipswich Massachusetts, a mixed conservation and recreation area. Much of the area between the beach and the dunes is roped off, to help protect the nesting habitat of the state and federally threatened piping plover. We didn't see any of the estimated 40 adult piping plovers (as of 2006) that are thought to nest there.


Instead we saw hundreds of semipalmated plovers Charadrius semipalmatus*, the most commonly seen plover during the east coast migration. They pass along the coast, stopping in protected spots to pick insects, crustaceans, and worms from the sand and mud. A patient birder might pick out some other species in this crowd--I saw terns for sure, and possibly some small sandpipers.


As the tide came in, the space between the humans and the birds narrowed. I was thankful for the roped off area, giving the plovers their own territory. Many plovers nest on open sand, relying on camouflage to protect their chicks. Vehicles, dogs, and gulls kill many in areas that have too much human traffic. If there were no laws protecting these birds, I'm sure they'd be extinct already.

* Charadrius referred to an old world bird originally, but now is taken to be the generic name for plovers. Semipalmated means that their feed are partially webbed.

Much larger than ring-billed gulls, herring gulls Larus argentatus* are about the size of red-tailed hawks. They are the most frequently encountered gull in North America, found from the Aleutians to the Caribbean. They are scavengers very well adapted to life near human activity. I've seen a wild population surviving on pizza crusts on Revere Beach, and I've seen one kill and consume a pigeon on Mass Ave in Cambridge. If their populations get too large, the populations of terns and other more sensitive species suffer, because herring gulls are ravenous predators of other birds' nestlings.


It takes herring gulls four years to develop adult plumage. This banded youngster was probably hatched last year. Its neighbor in the lower left corner is a year or two older.

* Silver gull

5 fact-like statements about the American robin Turdus migratorius*:

1. Named after the European robin Erithacus rubecula**, a smaller unrelated songbird, due to a single visual field marking (red breast) and similar habitat related behavior--they both are unusually tolerant of human behavior and human-caused habitat disturbances.

2. Every year someone tells me they saw the "first robin of spring" and I have to choose between nodding politely or giving them a natural history lecture. In Boston there is a stable population of robins that do not migrate--the city provides year round food and habitat. In some parts of North America the robins herald the arrival of autumn.

3. Since earthworms didn't arrive in New England until European colonists did (with ships loaded with ballast soil), what the hell did robins eat before then? Probably there were a hell of a lot fewer of them, and they ate more beetle grubs and caterpillars in the spring. In the autumn they eat fruit.

4. Robins have about a 25% survival rate per chick per clutch. Since they love to nest near humans and our buildings, we encounter robin fledglings that are injured or dead more than many other birds. This is okay. If all the babies survived, they would only lay 1 egg per nest, twice a year. They lay an average of 4 per clutch.

5. The one in these pictures was having difficulty flying. It was unclear if it was a fledgling with mature plumage or an adult suffering from some injury. It's also none of my business. I grabbed it up and put it over the fence in our brush pile so the dogs wouldn't kill it.



* "Migratory thrush." I've long thought it's name should be the "yard thrush," or the "suburbs thrush."

** "Little red robin." A bit on the nose, don't you think?

I like the Massachusetts story of the heaviest flying bird in North America. It has gone from valuable food source to completely extirpathted from the state, reintroduced from other states, and is now a fearless suburban pest. Wild turkeys are hunted across the region, but they have adapted to rely on human food sources, and the protections that come with living in settled areas. There's no turkey season in the town center, or at the wildlife sanctuary where I took these photos.





Imagine if the largest land mammal in North America had a similar story. Wood bison at your birdfeeder? Towering hornless rhinos nibbling at the tops of the maples and sycamores lining main street?

The snow recorded a crow walking in a spiral

Duck duck duck duck hey you gonna finish that?

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160 lbs of rumpled khaki on an old mountain bike.


Meanwhile, inside in the tropics, a yellow-billed stork and some scarlet ibises look down upon it all.

This snapshot-from-my-phone idea was going so great until I left my phone in my pants pocket and then put the pants through the wash. My Beloved Wife went and got herself a Windows Phone the dimensions of a 1975 Texas instruments calculator and gave me her phone. (I'm fantasizing about the waterproof Sony phone with the really high megapixel camera. That thing costs a lot of bucks but I'll tuck it away on my list of material possessions that will fix all my shortcomings and make my life better if I could only afford them.)

So here's a nice snapshot of Sigmund the yellow-billed stork taken with my regular camera on Thursday. Sigmund is the largest free-flight bird in the tropical forest exhibit, flying wherever he likes but spending much of his time with the saddle-billed storks, similar but much bigger birds who seem to tolerate him.

I forgot my camera on Friday and took a snapshot with my interim phone which was Alexis' last pre-smartphone phone. I couldn't figure out how to send the picture anywhere, and it sucked anyway, so let's just let that one disappear between the cracks of technology.

As I said earlier, we stayed at the Tween Waters Inn, in a room on the top floor of the building behind my dad in this picture. We were told that since it's "cold," that the manatees have moved away from the ocean into warmer inland waters.
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