In my ongoing attempts to see a reasonable amount of birds in North America (with no particular goal in mind), I knew I needed to spend a bit of time along the New England coast. Thoughts of Razorbills and Dovekies streaming down the beaches had been filling my head for weeks. With some time to kill around the Thanksgiving holiday, I knew this was my chance.
Per usual, a trip for birds nowadays is not complete without sidetrips for microbrews and other sites of wonder, be it National Park or battlefield. Everything is fair game.
But on this trip, mind you, I made a rule. No coffee. Yup. That’s right. Not a drop. No espresso. No lattes. No intravenous feeds. It is not because I am hopelessly addicted to the stuff and I am trying to break away. No, it had to do with the morals of it. To make a long story short, most coffee is bad for birds. It makes no sense for me to drive thousands of miles in my quest and drink sludge that is ultimately killing the very birds I enjoy seeing every year. Birders, as a whole, need to grasp this. So few do.
So, armed with my iPhone, GPS, a box of astronaut diapers, and other bird-related gear, I left. I had been watching reports in Massachusetts and I was worried that easy Target Bird #1 would be gone before I got there.
Sadly, the drive through New York was in the dark. But, I found it interesting that the constellation Orion the Hunter was, at times, directly in front of me. The goose hunt was on…