Tsawwassen Causeway
A cool and overcast yet rainless day is perfect for birding, and the proof was in the shorebirds we saw tucked away into the grassy mudflats next to Tsawwassen Causeway. Only six birders braved an early morning wake-up call to get here (Thea, Rosemary, Brian, Louis, Chris, and Margaretha) and we were rewarded with sightings of a small flock of Whimbrel, witha lone Willet among them. Had we not known to look out for the latter, I’ve no doubt we would totally have missed it. But there it was, all straight-beaked and stocky, in a flock of larger Whimbrels with impossibly long, curved bills.
Along the rocky spit was an enormous 60-bird-strong flock of Caspian Terns, and, right next to them, about 35 Greater Scaup. There were also Ring-billed Gulls hanging out with the terns, several Great Blue Herons stalking the grass-carpeted mudbanks and shallow waters, and Black Oystercatchers teaching their chicks the virtues of a shellfish diet. A Common Loon in handsome breeding plumage played peek-a-boo with us, dipping down as soon as we spotted it and popping back up when our attention had meandered elsewhere.
An oddball highlight for the causeway was a brown, goosy-looking bird that turned out to be a Brant, who’d obviously missed the migratory train and instead appeared to be spending winter with the herons. We then crossed the highway, braving certain death (in my mother’s estimation), to check out the other side of the causeway. Aside from Margaretha seeing a possible mink, the waters were devoid of feathered life. In the distance, a great ocean-locked rock was covered with cormorants, probably a mix of Pelagic and Brandt’s Cormorants, although from such a distance we just couldn’t tell.
Time to head to Reifel!
Reifel Bird Sanctuary
The causeway group arrived at Reifel Bird Sanctuary (joined by “Roger 1 and 2”, Angela, Gabriele, Lynne, and Warren) fully expecting things to be fairly quiet (being June and all) only to be pleasantly surprised to see just about every duck species one can hope for in winter … but in juvenal and eclipse plumage. Eclipse plumage refers to the dull, female-like plumage worn by males for a month or more in summer after breeding. And so, their usual strong lines, bright colors, and bold patterns are “eclipsed” by a faded and somewhat bedraggled-looking feather coat. Or as Brian put it: “Moth-eaten Mallards”.
Among the usual suspects (Canada Geese, Wood Ducks, and Mallards) were Northern Shovelers doing their signature synchronized swimming routine; Northern Pintails looking like they’d gone on a total bender the night before; two scrappy female American Wigeons; and dozens upon dozens of washed-out, patchy Gadwalls. We even spotted two tiny Green-winged Teals among a flock of Gadwalls in the western ponds.
Proof of “The Great Molt” was abundant everywhere in the abandoned and discarded contour feathers carpeting the grassy verges, which the Barn Swallows thought particularly useful to line the insides of their nests with. Speaking of, clouds of these aerial birds showed off their mastery of aerodynamics as they hunted for insects in the car park, and abundant Tree Swallows were seen swooping and nesting along the dike. We searched a clutch of nesting boxes near the bird observation tower that were rumoured to house Purple Martins. but they were nowhere to be found … until we looked up and there they were, wheeling on high in a bright white, overcast sky.
Thanks to some juicy intel by Roger Meyer, who had scuttled ahead of our group, we scaled the observation tower and voila! there was the rumoured Wilson’s Phalarope, a rarity for the area, restlessly patrolling the water alongside a triad of Greater Yellowlegs. The Phalarope was a little smaller than the Yellowlegs, had a distinctive dark stripe starting at the bill and extending through the eye and down the neck. This, together with its grey crown, russet patches on the neck, and white patches on the face make it a rather striking and beautiful shorebird!
Fun fact: Phalaropes are among the very few birds in the world whose FEMALES are in charge of the show. And because of that, they’ve become sexually selected to be more vibrantly colored than their male counterparts, who stay home to care for the eggs. #girlpower
Also present in the pond with the Wilson’s Phalarope and Greater Yellowlegs was a flock of tiny “peep” sandpipers, which we struggled to identify, even with the aid of Brian’s photographs. We suspect it was a mixed flock of Western, Least, and Semi-palmated Sandpipers but comments and discussion are very welcome!

After the excitement of the shorebirds, our return walk to the entrance yielded Black-capped Chickadee, Bushtits, House Finches, Cedar Waxwings, Spotted Towhee, and American Goldfinches. Suddenly, an unusual call emanating from the top of a tree halted us in our tracks. Then, a brightly-colored Bullock’s Oriole made a brief appearance before flitting off to an adjacent tree. We stayed and watched, eventually counting at least three of them, dancing between the trees, and calling out in melodious fluting whistles.
We arrived back at the entrance with 39 birds on the list, which made my eye twitch until Angela exuberantly reported an Anna’s Hummingbird at one of the feeders, shortly followed by a Rufous Hummingbird, bringing our list up to a satisfying 41 species for Reifel.
The musical score for the day was courtesy of an orchestra of Marsh Wrens, Common Yellowthroat, and Yellow Warbler (all seen) and Black-headed Grosbeak and Willow Flycatcher (not seen)
Air Traffic report: A lone Caspian Tern, a boisterous and noisy pair of Bald Eagles, and great flocks of European Starlings.
Thea Beckman

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