The ponds and beaches had sated our taste for ducks, but the Cape Cod countryside also affords good looks at other birds.
Winter has come to Cape Cod, but the ice has not. Many ducks have come as well, but many more are content to feed and rest on ponds farther inland. Soon the big freeze will come to those places, but the ponds on the Cape will be ice free and welcoming for yet a while longer.
Our bird club visits these ponds and shores twice each winter to find and enjoy the ducks. At our first stop in the town of Falmouth, we were greeted by hundreds of scaups resting in a tight raft on the placid surface of Siders Pond. Most of them had their heads tucked under their wing, the usual way for ducks to sleep.
There were always a few heads popped up at any given moment, whether to preen briefly or just to take a quick look around. We spent a few minutes picking out the lesser scaups from among the many greater scaups, but it was more pleasing to just take in the quiet spectacle of many ducks so finely clad in their glossy feathers.
There were more scaups on Salt Pond, along with a flotilla of red-breasted mergansers and several groups of petite bufflehead ducks. More of these greeted us when we stopped on Surf Ave to survey the calm waters of Nantucket Sound. Common goldeneyes were also here, but we could not pick out a single one of their rare cousins, the Barrow’s goldeneye.
The ponds and beaches had sated our taste for ducks, but the Cape Cod countryside also affords good looks at other birds. The more moderate winter climate and the acres of fruiting shrubs and cedar trees make this a mecca for hardy songbirds.
Most noticeable are the robins, and we encountered our first flock in the thickets close to the sparkling waves. The brush grew right to the edge of the low dunes, and the robins came out to see who was invading their territory.
They scolded with a loud chuck and showed off their rusty breasts, somewhat duller than their spring finery, but still handsome enough. Twenty or more emerged from the thick brush, then another 20, and yet another, until we began to think there was no end to them.
We tore ourselves away from the robins and the waves and headed inland, arriving at Crane Wildlife Management Area. As we drove slowly along, a flutter of wings caught our eyes, and we stopped to investigate. It was a bluebird perched at the pinnacle of a small tree. Soon another appeared, and yet another, until more than a dozen adorned the bushes and low trees.
This was surprise enough, but something even more special awaited us. Turning into the entrance that followed along the weedy grasslands, we suddenly found ourselves in a near blizzard of blue. First a few, then a flock of over three dozen bluebirds crossed the road a scant 30 feet in front of us.
We watched in something of a shock as they descended to the road, seeking out the potholes of ice and water that lay in our path. They circled the pools, and with slow and delicate precision, they dipped their heads down to take a sip, then raised them high to swallow the precious nectar.
When the bluebirds had left, we did as well, heading north to find more ducks and seabirds. We stopped at the mouth of the Cape Cod Canal for the usual scoters, eiders, cormorants, loons, and grebes. We scoured Great Herring Pond in Plymouth finding more scaup and buffleheads, plus a raft of coots.
The day was ending as we arrived at Plymouth Bay, where two brant geese grazed on the grass among the numerous lounging gulls. Before we headed home we had time to visit a small pond in North Plymouth. There were no new species on the pond, but there was a surprise.
A family of hungry mute swans swam up to meet us for a handout. The adults made their usual grunting growls, but the three young swans uttered a series of peeps, barely audible to the ear, but haunting and sweet. Over and over they sang as they raised their powerful bills in supplication.
It was a fine farewell to our sojourn on the winter coast.
Seth Kellogg can be contacted at skhawk@comcast.net
The Allen Bird Club website can be found at massbird.org/allen