“There’s a rare bird in the vicinity,” proclaimed a Saturday night email from my old friend and birding mentor Marcus. Not only rare, this one was a mega rarity: a Terek Sandpiper. So far, only one person had seen this species in our state before, and that was on Saturday morning. An entire community of birders, including Marcus, was eager to see it too. I packed for a Sunday morning departure to the Stanwood Water Treatment Plant pond.
On Sunday morning, I headed north, timing my arrival with high tide at 9:30 AM. This coincided with the first sighting of the bird the day before. By 9 AM, I was parked in Stanwood alongside the sewage lagoon. Fortunately, it did not smell and was lively with swallows, ducks, blackbirds, Cedar Waxwing, a Bald Eagle and Peregrine Falcon. It was also populated with about 60 birders on the far shore, armed with scopes, binoculars and cameras.
As I walked toward them, I encountered three glum birders departing. They reported that the Terek Sandpiper had not been seen and high tide had already come in. In effect, they said “game over” and their faces showed it.
Despite this disappointing news, I soldiered on, realizing that situations change. I was also enjoying the pleasantly cool summer morning with lots of other birds around and a chance to reconnect with birder friends.
On the way to the crowd of birders, I came across my “spark bird,” the bird that got me started as a serious birder. Cedar Waxwing are crested, colorful birds that are always a sight to behold. Today, many had a Damselfly or Dragonfly trapped in their beaks, their luminescent wings glinting in the sun. One Waxwing flew by so closely that it whisked the fabric of my windbreaker on its urgent mission to capture one.
About this time, a Peregrine Falcon soared overhead. A few birders commented cynically that the Terek Sandpiper was in its stomach. Soon afterward a ragged-looking Bald Eagle soared by, adding to the raptor presence at the pond.
Then came the people. First, I chatted with a few locals who were eager to meet the celebrity bird in their back yard. Then I found Karen, who conducts the daily bird count at Union Bay Natural Area, my go-to birding spot at home. She introduced me to Cameron, a young man in the midst of a Big Year of birding in King County. Next, I met Wendy, a botanist at the Center for Urban Horticulture who has birded for 30 years, and shares a number of mutual friends.
As I continued chatting with old friends Marcus and Heather, and saying hello to other birding luminaries including Bruce LaBar, Dennis Paulson and Andy Stepniewski, Marcus suddenly yelled: “IT’S HERE!”
The assembly of remaining birders moved hastily toward the edge of the pond, binoculars poised, quickly adjusting their scopes and cameras to capture the moment. Fortunately, the moment stretched to an hour of watching a Terek Sandpiper in action at relatively close range.
This is indeed a bird of action. It moved quickly and frequently, walking, running, hopping up and down the platforms in the lake, trotting along the pipes connecting the platforms, and taking short flights, while bobbing its rump up-and-down. It does this even more often than a Spotted Sandpiper, making it a major twerker in the bird world. Its long and upturned bill was conspicuous, as were its orange legs. Shorebirds can be hard to identify, but not this one.
Its hyper-active behavior is described well by Ebird.org: “Terek Sandpipers feed by dashing after insects and also by probing in mud, like a mini-Godwit.” At one point, the Terek Sandpiper nearly ran over a Brewer’s Blackbird that was walking on the same floating platform.
Native to Asia and Europe, Terek Sandpipers seldom come to in the Americas – except to Alaska’s Aleutian Islands during migration. Named for the Terek River which flows into the Caspian Sea in Russia, this bird’s visit was a Washington State first.
Meanwhile, the gallery of birders swelled again to about 60 after some who left returned after receiving texts and phone calls from those still present who had seen the bird. It was a wonderful and successful “chase” of a mega-rarity fairly close to home. And it was emblematic of the way birders build community in the field. Just about everyone walked away smiling and some even exchanged high-fives — a banner day for birding and birders!
