Thanks to an introduction from Terry Smith at
Friends of Sam Smith, I had the opportunity this morning to attend the annual
Whimbrel Watch out at
Whimbrel Point in Colonel Samuel Smith Park. My primary aim was to work with Humber’s
Arboretum to interview Tim McCarthy and Wayne Renaud for the upcoming exhibit at the
Interpretive Centre (oops!
spoiler alert!) but as a first-time attendee of the Whimbrel Watch I
thought it might be fun to share my notes from the experience:
4:00am – My alarm sounds and I
fumble around in a daze. At this stage in my morning consciousness I’m
not sure I could identify a “bird” let alone a whimbrel. Even the
simplest morning tasks seem more complicated and I am silently grateful
that I will be a cup of coffee deep before I meet up with the group.
4:30am – I head out to the car.
The first thought that strikes me is that in the pitch black the street
is alive with bird songs. Their volume is surprising against the silence
from the houses. Before I have a chance to think much further about
this early morning chorus, I become aware of a light rain and focus
instead on wishing away the clouds.
5:15am – I am wandering into
Colonel Samuel Smith Park. Sunrise will not officially take place for
another half an hour but there is more than enough light in which to
navigate the paths in the park. I expected an eerie, lonely walk through
the dark but am instead surrounded by lit paths, dog walkers, and
birders armed with large scopes. I had no idea there was such activity
at this hour!
5:30am – My first view of
Whimbrel Point as I approach reveals that I am not the first to arrive.
My nervous and shy “hellos” are greeted with warmth and welcome. Wayne
Renaud – one of the men I have come to interview – is among the group.
It becomes immediately obvious that he is just seeping with knowledge
about birding. He’s also much more prepared than I am for the day’s
event: layers of fleece, a toque and mitts, and a bag filled with snacks
to take him through the day – only his sunburnt (or perhaps wind
burnt?) cheeks show any sign that the weather may pose a challenge.
5:45am – A crowd is starting to
gather. Tim McCarthy – the second man I have come to interview – is easy
to spot when he arrives. Dressed in shorts despite the chilly breeze,
he wears a collection of feathers in his cap and a stuffed whimbrel
pokes out of his backpack. He announces to the group that he has
received an early morning email from his contacts in Virginia and the
news is not good: the storms are still raging in the U.S. and no
whimbrels were spotted leaving overnight.
6:15am – Despite the bad weather
to the south, the first flock appears overhead. The sighting stops the
conversation dead and a wave of binoculars and camera lenses point in
unison towards the birds. Counts are shared with the group – around 35
in this flock – as Tim records the time and weather details on his
clipboard.
Wayne and Tim spend the next few hours sharing stories of their own
entries into birding, how they became involved in the Whimbrel Watch,
and why the annual count is important for the conservation of the
at-risk species. By the level of energy the two exude you would think
this was Day 1 of the Whimbrel Watch – in fact, the two men have been
out daily since the 19th.
9:30am – The excitement with the
appearance of the first flock has waned and the numbers of birders out
at Whimbrel Point has begun to shrink. A momentary thrill comes when
another flock is sighted – but the mood quiets quickly as the group
determines it is the same flock as earlier, still making the rounds.
Today is shaping up to be a quiet one for the Watch.
11:00am – I am starting to fade.
The early morning wake-up has distorted my stomach’s idea of when lunch
should arrive and the cold has now seeped in through my bones. The
conversation over the morning has been fascinating – a collection of
first-timers and experts alike have generously shared tips, suggestions,
and a wealth of stories. A school group visiting the area approaches to
learn about the whimbrels and I use their arrival as an excuse to seek
out food and warmth.
11:30am – I arrive back at the
Interpretive Centre with my cheeks burning red from the morning wind
exposure. The whimbrels failed to turn out but their dedicated watchers
have made the experience worth every moment. I feel committed to the
full experience now and make plans to return this weekend for another
attempt to spot the flocks.
Want to experience the Whimbrel Watch for yourself? Join the group out at Whimbrel Point anytime between now and the end of the month (or stop by during this Saturday’s
Spring Bird Festival!).
Every knowledge level is welcomed but be warned – the passion of these
birders is contagious and you may return home only to find yourself
shopping for a pair of binoculars online…
