Connecticut Audubon’s Big Days

2014 Big Day

Big Day Results: Big Success … But No Record

The Raven Luna-ticks√ made the most of their Big Day Challenge last week, tallying 188 species but falling short of the team’s Connecticut record (192) and also of the long-shot goal of 200 species.

The team actually hit the road twice in five days (raving lunatics, indeed), and saw 188 species both times. It wasn’t all for fun, though – the Big Day Challenge is a fundraiser for Connecticut Audubon Society’s Coastal Center, supporting its outdoor science education and conservation programs.

The goal was $5,000. We’re only $500 from hitting that mark, and there’s still time to donate, so please consider helping!

The Raven Luna-ticks√ consist of Coastal Center Associate Director Frank Gallo along with Nick Bonomo, Patrick Dugan, Dave Tripp, and Fran Zygmont. 

They had two awesome days in the field, and we thank them sincerely (and we hope they’ve caught up on their sleep). Here’s what Frank said about the day:

“We had a great run until we hit Stratford/Milford in the late afternoon. Logistically, it was the best run we’ve ever done. We picked up nine species we didn’t have on Saturday [the day of the trial run], yet ultimately, we came out at the same number, 188. To put this in perspective, 186 was the state record for close to 20 years before we finally broke it with 192, three-four years ago. We’ve come close, tied, or beaten the old record ever since. I think our new average is 185.  We’re set to make the leap to the next level, mid 190s or better, and ultimately 200; we’re getting the route down now… we just need the right day.

“Challenge birds that we found were Green Heron (4-5), American Woodcock (several), and Ruffed Grouse (1),  …  we didn’t find Blue Grosbeak or Red-necked Grebe, both of which would be rarities dropped here by divine intervention. Some highlights for the day included both King and Common Eider, all three scoters, all three mergansers, both scaup, 2 bufflehead, an Iceland Gull, Mourning Warbler, both bitterns, and four species of rails, including the last bird of the day, a King Rail. A bird we’ve never gotten on the day itself. We’ve found them scouting, but not on the day. Our night run was amazing… We hit all but two of the targets the first night. That’s unheard of…. No team, as far as I remember, has ever done two full Big Days in a week. Others have done partial dry runs, but we did two complete days … and broke the old record twice. Two hundred is doable with the right conditions … but it’s going to have to be an amazing day.”

Reward their great effort by making a gift!

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2013 Big Day

Oh, the Weatherman Lied

The weather was setting up nicely for the Raven Luna-ticks 2013 Big Day birding fundraiser: south winds starting in the afternoon to bring migrants up from the south, with thunderstorms predicted for late evening to drop them into our area. Fog was to settle in on the coast to keep things down, and would lift by late morning so we’d be able to see off the coast in the afternoon. Things couldn’t look better for our run—ah, if only weather forecasts were true, and the weather people hadn’t lied!

The afternoon of May 21, 2013, arrived, along with those predicted south winds, as we finished up last-minute scouting, tweaked final plans for our Big Day run, and headed to bed for a few hours of much-needed sleep before midnight. All was going according to plan.

Patrick Dugan showed up at the door at 10 p.m., right on schedule. We loaded his stuff into the car, and my partner Vanessa drove us to the meeting spot. Our longtime Raven Luna-ticks teammates—Nick Bonomo, Fran Zygmont, and Dave Tripp—were already waiting at the Dunkin Donuts when we arrived. Ten minutes later, coffees in hand, we prepared to leave for our first stop, the swamps of South Windsor.  We could hear birds calling as they passed overhead. Things were looking good—but where were the predicted thunderstorms? I hoped that they’d come, without messing up our night birding too much.

Rails and other marsh birds were the targets for our first stop. Standing at the edge of the marsh, we were met first by a winnowing screech owl, then by the calls of migrating thrushes moving overhead; Swainson’s, Hermit, Gray-cheeked, and Veery were passing over us and headed, it seemed, right out of Connecticut . . . When was that storm coming to drop them all down? Cuckoos had already arrived, and a Yellow-billed Cuckoo called from the edge of the marsh; a woodcock displayed at our next stop, and, surprisingly, a Short-billed Dowitcher called as it migrated past.

Between 12:00 and 4:15 a.m. we tallied 34 species—a new record—including Horned Lark, Grasshopper Sparrow, Great Horned Owl, Northern Saw-whet, Common Nighthawk, Solitary and Spotted Sandpipers, Great Blue Heron, Cliff Swallow, and a Black-billed Cuckoo serenading the night. By 5:10 a.m., we’d totaled 55 species. It was a great start, but still no thunderstorms. We drove off to the west.

As we rolled on past dawn, our scouted stops paid off, yielding tough northern breeders such as Magnolia Warbler, Red-breasted Nuthatch, Northern Waterthrush, Purple Finch, Winter Wren, and Golden-crowned Kinglet. A quick stop at an inland lake added a resting Common Loon. An hour ahead of schedule, we raced off for more . . .

Kingfisher, Nashville Warbler, a lovely male Ruby-throated Hummingbird resting on a fence near a feeder, Savannah Sparrow, Eastern Meadowlark, a beautiful male American Kestrel hunting near its nest, and a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher wheezing away in an oak by the roadside all greeted us at our scouted sites.  By 8:17 a.m., our tally had climbed to 114.

White-eyed Vireo (our yearly nemesis), Red-shouldered Hawk, Black Vulture, Hooded Warbler, Northern Flicker, and a Mourning Warbler singing an interesting alternate song took their place on our tally sheet. By 11:35 a.m., we’d gathered 138 species and were right on schedule, and were tracking our 192 species record-breaking year nicely.

Here’s where the tactical error occurred. It involved math, and math shouldn’t be done on the fly. It seemed like a good idea at the time (more sleep may have helped) to go to Hartford. What we didn’t calculate was the extra hour it would take us to get to the coast after that. By 2:00 p.m., we had made it to the shore, having gained just two additional species, Upland Sandpiper and Cooper’s Hawk (which we happened to see en route).

But we rallied. Scouted birds cooperated: Common Eider, check. Purple Sandpiper, check. Black Scoter, nope, not today—the only ones we had pinned down during scouting were nowhere to be seen. It’s always something, so we moved on. Greater Yellowlegs, check. Least Tern, check. Surf Scoter—those weren’t there the day before, extra check. Summer Tanager—wow, we could use a few more rarities like that.  Hey, we’re gaining ground again. Little Blue Heron, nope. Weird Little Blue x Tricolored Heron hybrid—cool, except we can’t count it. Red-breasted Merganser, check. Red-throated Loon, thank God, check. White-faced Ibis, check. Wait, White-faced Ibis . . . flying by right in front of us . . . and not the one we’d staked out but wouldn’t have time to get to—wow, we could use a few more surprises like that.

At 5:00 p.m., our bird list had 175 species checked off; there was 3 hours of light left and it was going to be close. In New Haven, we hit big: Lesser Scaup, thank you! Yellow-crowned Night-Heron and Monk Parakeets, nesting near a friend’s house; and Gadwall and American Coot, followed by a quick save on Green Heron . . . and we were off to the races. Sandy Point held Piping Plovers and a Clapper Rail, but the scouted Laughing Gull, Red Knot, and Skimmers were nowhere to be seen, and there were no land-bird migrants along the coast. Two flyby White-winged Scoters were a bonus, and we left in good spirits, with 184 species and still a distant chance at the record of 194. It was 6:40 p.m., and the light was fading fast.

At 8:07 p.m., a surprise Merlin flew directly over our heads and flushed all the shorebirds on the sandbars at Milford Point. We didn’t see a Red Knot in the group, but the Merlin was #185 for the day, equaling our second-best Big Day effort. Our scouted birds, it seemed, had taken the afternoon off. Where did the Greater Scaup go, and the Iceland Gulls and Great Cormorant?

Well, we still had scouted rails and bitterns to get . . . King Rail, no. Least Bittern, no. American Bittern, nope. Our last new bird, a Sora, called at 10:47 p.m., giving us our second-best total of 186. It was followed by another Sora calling—good for us. (I really like Soras.) At midnight, as we were setting up for the team photo, a pair of Eastern Screech-Owls was quietly winnowing back and forth to each other and slowly coming closer to us. At midnight, as the flash went off and the camera recorded our picture, they were directly above us, serenading and soothing our finish. It was a nice way to end a day of birding with dear friends.

Dave, Fran, Nick, Patrick, and I would like to thank the Connecticut birding community for all your support; we’ll be out there again next year to break the record. It’s only a matter of time. We achieved 192 species in 2011; our goal to surpass the New England Record of 193, and reach 200, is in sight. All we need is an honest weather report, and the right day. You know, come to think of it, we never did run into that thunderstorm.    

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2012 Big Day

The Day We Earned Our Name: The Raven Luna-ticks 2012 Big Day Run 

The 2012 Big Day, as told by Frank Gallo, Associate Director of the Connecticut Audubon Society Coastal Center at Milford Point

There is nothing I like better than standing in a swamp listening to the myriad mutterings of the night. Midnight, the morning of May 21, was no exception; it was the start of our 2012 Big Day run to raise money for the Connecticut Audubon Society’s Coastal Center, and I was standing with three teammates, Patrick Dugan, Dave Tripp, and Fran Zygmont, in a swamp in central Connecticut.

At a minute to midnight, Fran had trilled like an Eastern Screech-Owl. We were hoping and waiting for one to respond while listening to the musings of Virginia Rails “kicking” in the background to the accompaniment of “twanging” green frogs. Seconds after midnight, two screech-owls started whinnying together, a Marsh Wren sang and, just minutes later, a Green Heron gave its harsh squawk.  Of the Least Bittern, there was no sign, not a single peep did it utter.

We raced back along the waterlogged trail in high spirits, with hopes of soon finding Sora, Whip-poor-will, singing Grasshopper Sparrows, and a plentitude of owls, secure in the knowledge that there were still other stops for Least Bittern.

The Soras were silent, and our foray for grassland birds was a bust, but an American Woodcock, along with Solitary and Spotted Sandpipers, had all chimed in at one stop, and we discovered, at random, a Barn Owl. It was calling while it was going in and out of a barn — at first, loud, then muffled, loud, then muffled. Bizarre.

One horned lark, and a back-up Grasshopper Sparrow, put us back on track and we raced west through the night, picking up our Whip-poor-wills and Cliff Swallows, and bagging four more species of owls. Our stop to listen for migrants produced only one, a Swainson’s Thrush. But, ahead of schedule, we tried for a moorhen and picked up American Bittern. Sweet!

Dawn found us listening to the warbles of Canada Warblers and Northern Waterthrushes in the northwest corner of Connecticut. Our well-planned north route (thanks to Fran and Dave) had us picking off species after species: Magnolia Warbler, Nashville, Worm-eating, and Blackburnian Warblers in a single stop; Purple Finch, Dark-eyed Junco, and Winter Wren all sang at the scouted sites. Our staked-out pheasant was sauntering through a field when we arrived, so we sped off to find Belted Kingfisher and Willow Flycatcher, before heading to our Acadian Flycatcher spot.

As we drove up, the Acadian sang, so we spun around, snagged a Cerulean Warbler from the roadside, and made a swing through an area for brush-loving species: Brown Thrasher, check; Orchard Oriole, check; Field Sparrow, check; Prairie Warbler, check, and we were off.

During the rest of the morning, we would add species such as Broad-winged and Red-shouldered Hawks, Black Vulture, Ruby-throated Hummingbird, and Hooded Warbler. Our total was building nicely; we were right on track, a little behind schedule, but quickly approaching last year’s record-setting total for the north.

The American Coot was right were I left it the day before (I mean, saw it) and it was time to shoot for the coast – with 130 species and high hopes that days of scouting would pay off. Our bright morning sky was clouding quickly and our arrival in Stratford was accompanied by strong east winds and rain. Binoculars became microscopes, as visibility shrank. We increased the pace, trying to outrun the rain, and picked up Boat-tailed Grackle, Short-billed Dowitcher, Ruddy Turnstone, Yellow-crowned Night-Heron, and a few other targets, but little else. We decided to cut our losses and head east. At our first stop, scouting rewarded us with a female Bufflehead, found the day before, and a bonus Common Loon.

Spirits lightened, but the weather worsened. By the time we reached the Branford coast visibility was down to 100 yards. All the scoters, Long-tailed Ducks, and Red-throated Loons I had scouted during the week had vanished in the fog. It was maddening. We did manage to find a single Purple Sandpiper on a rock near shore, and made a last-minute save on the Black Scoter that flew in and landed on “his” island as we were leaving.

Well, two were better than none, and there was lots of daylight left. If the weather would just clear, we might still have a chance. We had scouted 191 species, with many others possible, so we crossed our fingers, and flew off to Hammonasset Beach.  

I’ve never tried birding by feel, but the fog was so thick when we arrived, that we nearly had to, trying to identify the Little Blue Heron in the Meig’s Point Pond. The Park was an eerie landscape of surreal shapes and brief glimpses of birds materializing softly from the gloom, only to vanish again, like ghosts, engulfed in silence. Fortunately, Seaside Sparrows sang, and a lone Saltmarsh Sparrow walked within sight beside the board walk. The search for our other target species was in vain. No Tri-colored Heron; no Lesser Yellowlegs; no loons, or waterfowl – just white, rain, and wind. The atmosphere was palpable; the visibility nonexistent.

We decided to try farther to the west in hopes that the storm cell would pass to our east. It didn’t, and Milford Point was shrouded in fog. It’s a good thing that birds make noise. Two of our next three species were found by ear: a Piping Plover called near its nest, and the shadows of six Sanderling rocketed past us on the beach uttering their “plick, plick, plick” calls. As we were preparing to leave, Patrick finally found a White-rumped Sandpiper that had wandered out of the fog just close enough for us to see.

A last ditch stop at Silver Sands turned up more fog rather than the scouted Lesser Yellowlegs. Poor Charles Island and its heron colony just offshore, was only a memory, invisible in an impenetrable bank of white.

As we stood there among the clouds, peering east into mist and drizzle, we pondered what to do. Our tally was 171. Two or three more species were possible, if the weather gods cooperated, but given their track record, we opted to call it a day and let everyone drive home safely. No sense pushing the envelope when people had long drives home; better to do it early then late, when we’d be more tired. There would be other days. We did our best, and I’m proud of our results given the hand we were dealt. It was a good day. After all, we started in a swamp enjoying the nightlife, so how bad could it be?

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2011 Big Day

Raven Luna-ticks Break Connecticut Birding Big Day Record!

On Friday, May 20, the Connecticut Audubon Raven Luna-ticks (Nick  Bonomo, Patrick Dugan, Frank Gallo, Dave Tripp, and Fran Zygmont) not only broke the Connecticut Big Day birding record of 186 species, but also bested the New England record of 191, by finding an amazing 192 species in Connecticut in just twenty-four hours!  Read more about our day athttp://ctaudubon.blogspot.com/ and at http://www.shorebirder.com/ A full account of our Big Day will be posted on our blog soon.

So far, the event has raiseed over $2000 for CAS’s Coastal Center at Milford Point.  We’re two-thirds of the way to our goal of $3000.  Please help us reach this important goal, by making a pledge today. Every dollar you give will go directly to support CAS’s Coastal Center at Milford Point – Yankee Magazine’s recipiant of this year’s editor’s choice award for best birding destination in Connecticut.  

 We can’t do it without you, and we thank you for your generosity!

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2010 Big Day

The Raven Luna-Ticks (Nick Bonomo, Patrick Dugan, Dave Tripp, Fran Zygmont, and me) had an exciting day despite fog on the eastern coast and a pitiful songbird migration. Our total was an incredible 185, only one away from the state record!

The following entry is from Frank Gallo, Associate Director of the Coastal Center at Milford Point. It is a truly riveting account of a Big Day birding effort to raise money for the Coastal Center and the Connecticut Audubon Society.

At ten minutes to midnight, Saturday, May 22, the Raven Luna-ticks members — Nick Bonomo, Patrick Dugan, me (Frank Gallo), Dave Tripp, and Fran Zygmont — walked quietly down a muddy dirt track, ducking fallen trees and fording puddles, into the Station 43 marsh in South Windsor. Near the end of the trail, we stopped and started whistling for Screech Owl. It was four minutes to midnight. The Screech Owl responded immediately, too soon, really, and the team sweated out the remaining three minutes, praying the owl would keep calling. At one minute to midnight, it was still whinnying, and was then joined by two Least Bitterns, moaning at each other from opposite sides of the marsh… Forty-five seconds to go… thirty… fifteen… Yes! Screech Owl and Least Bittern were in the bag at the stroke of midnight. Both were missed here last year… but every year is different.

The team left in high spirits to the thumping applause of Virginia Rail and the exuberant trills of Marsh Wren, or so we’d like to think. Thus began our race for the Connecticut Big Day record of 186. It was a good start.

Next stop: Bradley Airport, Hartford, for Horned Lark, Grasshopper Sparrow, and Upland Sandpiper. The Horned Larks were singing up a storm – check; the Grasshopper Sparrows also sang on cue – check; but stop after stop, the Uplands remained silent. Now we’d have to come back. Two out of three in the bag, and an hour ahead of schedule, we raced for Connecticut’s northwest corner… with a quick stop for Fran’s rather obliging Whip-poor-will along the way.

The small hours, between three a.m. and dawn, when the air is stillest and the night broods, is now a blur to me. There was a stop for Saw-whet Owl that tooted with gusto — we felt honored. A gallant but failed attempt to hear a scouted Common Moorhen — we felt privileged even to be able to look for one and calling Yellow-billed and, later, Black-billed Cuckoos. There were successful stops for Sora, Great Horned, and Barred Owls, and a visit from a nice policeman who wanted to know what we were doing parked at the side of the road at three a.m. He didn’t believe our story, until I came walking out of the woods hooting like a Great Horned Owl; we met him later, while gassing our truck in town, and he happily offered suggestions on where to find owls in a nearby valley. Now, that’s public service at its finest!

At dawn, we were on and near Mohawk Mountain picking up northern breeding birds such as Hermit Thrush, White-throated Sparrow, Dark-eyed Junco, Pileated Woodpecker, and Yellow-bellied Sapsucker. It was a real treat to have both Red-breasted and White-breasted Nuthatches oinking at us from the same tree along Route 43. A calling Swainson’s Thrush was one of the few migrants we recorded for the day. Broad-winged Hawks were cooperative this year, and three were seen on our northwest foray. We tallied a slew of warblers, including Northern Waterthrush, Yellow-rumped, Mourning, and Black-throated Blue, but we missed Magnolia, and the Nashville. We hoped that missing them wouldn’t cost us in the end…

Racing around the northwest corner between Cornwall and Kent, we added Common and Hooded Mergansers, Wood Duck, American Kestrel, Common Raven, Eastern Bluebird, Brown Thrasher, Bobolink, Eastern Meadowlark, Field and Savannah Sparrows, and most of the remaining warblers, including our staked-out Prairie, Blue- and Golden-winged, Hooded, and Parula. Magnolia nearly eluded us, but a last-ditch stop while leaving Goshen finally produced. Of course, we heard two other Magnolias out the car window on the drive south…

Tyler Lake was empty of migrants, so our remaining hope was Bantam Lake, in Litchfield, where two Caspian Terns were seen the day before. The terns had moved on, but the lake provided us with an adult Bald Eagle and our last stop in town garnered Winter Wren and a rather cagy Golden-crowned Kinglet to save the day.

Late morning, we took a gamble. The tides on the coast were all wrong until late afternoon, and finding birds during the week had been difficult, at best. Rather then speed directly to the coast, we decided to head west back to Simsbury and Hartford, and then south to the coast. Our plan was to reverse our normal route, heading from east to west rather than west to east along the coast. It paid off!

Great Pond in Simsbury was our next stop. We scanned the skies for 45 minutes en route, hoping to see a new raptor… but nothing. Our luck changed when we arrived at Great Pond, where a Red-shouldered Hawk nest and a back-up Spotted Sandpiper had been staked out. Our hope was to also catch a glimpse of one of the area’s nesting Mississippi Kites while one hunted over the pond. We could see the fuzzy head of a baby Red-shoulder peeking above its nest when we arrived. As we began walking towards the pond, the crows started screaming and mobbing a raptor. Dave started yelling “Mississippi Kite”; we all ran to the parking lot clearing for a look. Soaring over the trees came the kite, and with it, a second bird, a Cooper’s Hawk. Imagine, a Mississippi Kite on a Big Day in Connecticut — amazing. The adult Red-shoulder started screaming from the woods behind us. In less than a minute, we’d gained three new species. The Spotted Sandpiper was on the pond, and remarkably, ended up as only one of two for the day. Ahead of schedule, we blasted back to Bradley Airport with our fingers crossed… Touchdown! Nick’s scouted Upland Sandpiper was calling, so we blasted to the coast, to find a big surprise awaiting…

Fog. At our first stop in Westbrook, it was so foggy we couldn’t see Manunkatesik Island. We thought we were in the wrong place and drove around a bit, before realizing that we had been correct, we just couldn’t see the island. This did not bode well. However, while we were pondering what to do, a Little Blue Heron flew by close enough for all to see… Okay, that was one. We decided that all we could do was try, run our route, and see what happened. Our second stop produced a few new shorebirds, including an American Oystercatcher and a much-needed Bank Swallow, saving us a stop, and time, later in the day when wasted minutes cost birds.

Hammonasset Beach State Park was a Kite Festival… literally, and not the Mississippi kind. The entire west end was blanketed in colorful flying objects… UFO’s in DayGlo. There were few new birds, and certainly none at the west end, but Patrick picked up a singing Orchard Oriole. Little Blue Herons were conspicuous (because we didn’t need one), and the pools on the moraine trail, scouted earlier in the week, produced our only White-rumped Sandpiper, the best bird for the park.

Our central coast home run was at Middle Beach in Madison. A flock of young male Common Eiders found offshore near Tuxis Island two weeks earlier but absent during the week decided to reappear, as did a young male Surf Scoter. Perhaps it was the tides? It doesn’t matter, they were there! As were Purple Sandpipers and a Common Loon found on Saturday. Scouting paid off big, again. Nearby, the marshes and beaches along Neck Road gifted us with Ruddy Turnstone, Sanderling, Semi-palmated Sandpiper, Plover, and Purple Martins. We left the area to a chorus of Seaside and Sharp-tailed Sparrows. Spirits were running high. Did I mention that the fog stopped at Hammonasset, and it was clear sailing to the west!

We had most of our targets and decided to bypass our remaining central coast stops and head straight to Lighthouse Point Park. After talking our way through the gate, we grabbed our scouted White-eyed Vireo and Brant and flew towards Bridgeport for Peregrine. We never made it to Bridgeport; the stop proved unnecessary. Delayed by traffic on the Quinnipiac Bridge, we were able to find the local Peregrine sitting on a radio tower! (Patrick yelled out, “Third tower on the right.” I was driving but was able to grab a look before the traffic moved.) Go team…

We were saving Milford Point for last, when the tides were highest, so we drove straight to the Railroad Ponds in Stratford. A quick run into the marsh and we had Boat-tailed Grackle, Gadwall, but no Wilson’s Warbler; one had been singing there all week. That hurt. Our consolation bonus was a group of shorebirds hiding in the marsh that contained three or four Red Knots, a Greater Yellowlegs, and Short-billed Dowitchers, among the many Black-bellied Plovers in a wide array of plumages. Knots had just come in the day before. We left the area in a great mood, with five new species, and headed for Long Beach. The female Piping Plover’s head was visible in the exclosure to the west of the parking lot, but the Glaucous Gull was absent. We’d have to find it on the Milford side, if we could. It was at Milford Point two nights before.

A quick check of the list showed we were at 181; the record was possible. Stratford Point produced some winners: Patrick picked up 11 White-winged Scoters that flew north along the jetties and up river before circling over Wheeler Marsh and heading back out to sea. Scanning the marker buoy at the end of the jetty, I noticed a large cormorant preening itself…We left with another tick, Great Cormorant. Hallelujah!

It was getting dark, and we had to hurry. As the light was fading, we scanned the marshes for Barn Owl; a large brown bird with a pale body flew by, but it was too far away to get a positive ID. Was it a Barn Owl, a Northern Harrier, or something else? We had to let it go and move on. Our last stop in Stratford produced a Green Heron, and to Dave’s amazement, a Least Bittern that flew across the pool in front of him. The big, or should I say small, new bird was a Green-winged Teal that flew out of the pool with a Black Duck. One had been seen in the area a week ago, but we hadn’t expected to find it!

Now at 183, we drove to New Haven hoping to find Common Nighthawk. For years there has been one reported from Cottage and Whitney; just minutes after our arrival, it called, and we were off for Durham… with 184.

Durham Meadows was beautiful, shrouded in fog aglow in moonlight. The dead trees within the marsh appeared to sprout from a cotton comforter; their branches looked like bare Q-tips silhouetted against the sky. There were a few birds calling: the ubiquitous songster of wetland, Marsh Wren, a few Swamp Sparrows, and Virginia Rails. We left with delightful memories and no new birds…

A few birds were still possible — Gray-cheeked Thrush, King Rail, Common Moorhen — hey, we were even contemplating a run for the Snow Goose that sleeps in Stamford Harbor… but time was running out. We decided to try for migrants and marsh birds. The last thing we expected was a Long-eared Owl calling near midnight. What a perfect finish to a wonderful day.

We ended with 185, one short of the record. There were a couple of birds we reconsidered but in the end decided not to count. It was a great day, full of surprises; any day with 185 species is a good day in our book, and there’s always next year…

I would like to thank my tireless (or nearly so) friends and teammates, Nick Bonomo (the bird magnet), Patrick Dugan (the bird whisperer), Dave Tripp (the eyes), and Fran Zymont (the ears.) You make this event worthwhile and, dare I say, fun.

I would also like to thank all the generous Connecticut birders who sent us reconnaissance during the weeks leading up to the event; we can’t do this event without knowing were the birds are, and our schedules don’t allow us all the scouting time we would like… so are hats are off to you! A huge thanks also to all our tireless supporters who help us raise money to support the education and conservation mission of Connecticut Audubon Society, and specifically, the Coastal Center at Milford Point, by pledging per species… I bet now you wish you gave a lump sum… (It’s never too late to donate, and remember, your contributions are tax deductible.) Thanks again. Frank Gallo, Director, Connecticut Audubon Society Coastal Center, and the Raven Luna-ticks.

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2009 Big Day

Highlights of our Northwest corner tour included Golden-winged, Hooded, Cerulean and about 22 other warbler species, Ruffed Grouse, Common Raven, Black Vulture, Cooper’s Hawk, Ruby-throated Hummingbird and Pileated Woodpecker. We left the north around 10:30 a.m., right on schedule and with 130 species — minus Hairy Woodpecker. Our goal was to be to the coast by 11:30 a.m. for high tide. But just before we reached the coast we blew a back tire, setting us back an hour, throwing us off the tide and making it real work to find the afternoon’s targets. 

The Big Day is over but it’s not too late to make a pledge to support the Coastal Center at Milford Point. You can find a link to a pledge form on this page.