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The Vagrant
A rookie response to Book of Serenity Case #1: The World-Honored One Ascends the Seat
I reach the bridge and see the line-up of birders, and know I’ve found the spot.
The White Wagtail was reported a few days ago and we don’t expect it to stay long. The Sibley Field Guide to Birds of Western North America says that the White Wagtail is “Uncommon and local in western Alaska, where it nests among large boulders. Solitary. Forages on open ground along edges of ponds and lagoons.”
This bird foraging along the edge of Rodeo Lagoon in the Marin Headlands has caused quite a stir. It’s been here for two days and no one expects it to stay for long. A frantic email popped through on the bird list earlier this morning. “Which parking lot at the lagoon? There are two!” — Dea is worried she’ll miss it.
We line the eastern bank and bridge. I see someone I know, Scott, and he offers me a glimpse through his scope.
But the bird has disappeared. We laugh. Just my luck.
We move further south for a different angle. Then the bird appears again, at the edge of the reeds, easy to see in my binoculars. It moves quickly. I get a closer look through the scope, too. It dashes in and out of the reeds as it feeds. An excited man in a floppy hat calls out every time the Wagtail appears, “It’s out!”
We all stand, chatting about the bird. Is it from the small population of Alaskan birds, or could it be from the much larger Eurasian population? We are all feeling good, having seen the bird on this bright morning. The wagtail disappears into the reeds, then runs out to forage. “It’s out!”
As we watch, three river otters roll in the water. They’re hunting the ducks. The otters gather together, three heads just above the water in a tight group as they stalk the mallards and wigeons. Suddenly the otters disappear, and we see nothing but a strong wake coursing toward the bank the ducks rest on. But the birds move away, and the otters are out of luck.
I take a few last looks at the White Wagtail, then say goodbye to Scott and the others, and continue my trip into the city. I drive away, wondering what possible use it is to go see a bird like that, when really every bird is its own miracle. Or, how many of these rare vagrant birds do we never notice? There must be more than we see. It’s kind of silly, really. Still, I’m glad I went.
The next day, others report that the wagtail is gone.
I make a checkmark in my field guide, and pen a notation, “Rodeo Lagoon, Marin Headlands, 10/22/2015.”
Sibley says that the White Wagtail is “Very long-tailed. Note clean black and white plumage with black breast-band.” The White Wagtail is thus.
But he doesn’t say anything about the otters, or about the easy camaraderie of birders, or if Dea ever found the right parking lot.
