October 18, 2026

Where: Huntley Meadows Park

When: 7:21 am

Bird Species: northern cardinal, yellow-rumped warbler, house finch, eastern bluebird, white-throated sparrow, song sparrow, common grackle, white-breasted nuthatch, northern flicker, red-bellied woodpecker, great blue heron, downy woodpecker, red-winged blackbird, swamp sparrow, great egret, Canada goose, lesser yellowlegs, mallard, glossy ibis, white-faced ibis (lifer), eastern phoebe, tufted titmouse, American crow, American goldfinch

Things I Thought About:

• Knit hat weather, bitches! We are so back. 
• All summer long this would have been too late for a lot of the activity, but here in mid-October the swamp is just starting to wake up. The buzzy, almost electrical sound of a titmouse is the first bird I hear, and slowly the chorus builds.
• Well, well, well. We meet again, Moriarty.

• White-throated sparrows are back! I am a human heart eyes emoji. That hollow, plaintive train whistle of a song, so different from every other bird. I have missed it a lot. Hearing that little song feels like I have gotten through something I didn't know was a bit of a struggle until it was over.

• So today is a day when I am reminded that I don’t know very much about birds. Very salutary. I have had it in my head that the red-winged blackbirds leave this time of year, but there are about a bajillion females in a great flock by the boardwalk end. I mention this to a park naturalist, and she tells me that they are year-round birds here. I had definitely believed that I had seen them arrive in the spring, but she tells me in the spring what I am seeing is a really loud dominance display from the males as they set up territory for nesting. But I can expect to see them any day of the year, really. How little did I know.

• There is a lot of action on the boardwalk from human photographers, and I don't doubt that the avian visitors up close here will be the bird of the day. I heard rumor of a sora as well but haven't heard or seen it. No ducks yet, but the reappearance of the white-throated sparrows makes me feel like they'll get here soon enough.
• Look at that fat phoebe. What a pretty little bird.

• Since the last time I was out here the first meadows have turned entirely to rust and brown and sienna. There are bluebirds racing across tops of the brush, too far away for photos, but a striking contrast seen through the binos. The remaining tall stalks of leaves are drying out, making one swamp sparrow flitting around in there sound like an army. I did not see a single frog or turtle today. I think the osprey might be gone, too. That one I do know for sure migrates.

• It was <40 degrees when I got here, but on the boardwalk, it feels perfectly lovely in the sunshine. I love this kind of variation between shade and sun. Unzipping your hoodie to let both a cold wind and the hot sun touch the same patch of exposed skin is a singular sensation on a beautiful fall morning.
• Some days you really can just feel yourself in your own body, despite the nagging aches and pains, and know that it is good. I wish I could fully capture the feeling of how completely my mind and body softened and relaxed the minute I reached the spot where the woods canopy opens up to the start of the ponds, and fully registered that I was standing in my favorite place, in a generally healthy body, on two good feet again.
• Four hours at the swamp, at a snail's pace. A perfect morning.

BOTD: glossy ibis, and as a special treat, and white-faced ibis as well. This was terrific.

I had avoided looking at the park Facebook page while I was laid up, trying to avoid feeling left out, so I had no idea there was a little group of glossy ibis visiting. I have listed glossy ibis before, but I have never seen them this close, and never in their non-breeding plumage, these beautiful shades of green. As I was watching these five birds foraging with their incredible downward curving bills, I noticed that one of them had a distinctive red eye.

At a distance, I thought it could be an injury, but no, definitely four of them had brown eyes and that one's eyes are red. Isn't it amazing that something that small can be the marker of an entirely different species? A little conversation with some of the other park-goers confirmed that it was a white-faced ibis, a lifer for me. The more I watched them as a whole group, the more identifiers there were. The body shape a little rounder and heftier, the legs bronze rather than brown, more shine in the plumage. Even though they were very content to run together in a group, one of these birds is not like the others.

I wish I could get all shorebirds to do this. "Attention, all sandpipers, dowitchers, and yellowlegs, please line up right next to each other so I can observe your differences from each other and, eventually, have a fighting chance at identifying you by yourselves."

This non-breeding plumage is meant to be a real downgrade from the summer heights of bronze and green and purple, but I found it to be absolutely stunning, with wide, flat barbs that remind me of the kind of boa Miss Piggy wears, but expensive.

I wish I had managed to get a shot of them in flight (they disappeared between my first and second loop around the boardwalk) so you could see those incredible bills in silhouette. Really special, uncommon for the area. A very good sort of wading bird.