Chasing a rarity (or not)

(published 4-20-23)

What’s my birding style? What’s my favorite way to enjoy birds? These are questions we might ask ourselves as our engagement with the hobby grows.

Ross's Gull by Matt Zuro

I’ve been pondering them ever since an ultra-rare Ross’s gull gifted birders a huge surprise in March. First spotted by Dan Lory, the high-Arctic wanderer triggered a mad rush to a stretch of Chicago beaches near the Indiana line. It was only the fourth Illinois record for the species, and the best opportunity to see one here since 1978.

Soon about 100 birders were on the scene, trying for a glimpse. Many more were on the way, mapping out directions and wondering where to park. Word travels fast when Elvis is on the lakefront.

Hours before the discovery, no local birder expected to be life listing a Ross’s gull. A Ross’s goose perhaps, but not a gull. This was insane. Rare bird chasers were licking their chops.

Time was short, the pressure intense. Surely this bird was a “one-day wonder.” Nobody saw it the next day, or the next.

But three days after the initial sighting the gull returned, appearing off and on for another 48 hours. It believed in second chances. More thrill seekers dropped everything and hit the road. A few arrived from other states, with success far from guaranteed.

Birders reported the gull’s whereabouts constantly via the GroupMe app, helping others find the target. Most (but not all) searchers went home happy.

It may surprise you that I did not pursue the Ross’s gull, already a lock for the area’s Bird of the Year. Timing is everything, right? When the news broke, I was leading a bird walk at Cantigny Park; when the bird came back, I was too busy at work to skip out.

Once more, I had to experience an amazing bird vicariously. It was still amazing, just to know such a rarity was only 40 miles from my desk.

Townsend's Warbler by Jerry Ting

In birding, you get some and you miss some. We learn to be OK with it, otherwise we’d go crazy. My personal outlook is glass-half-full: most birds I really want to see will cross my path eventually. Maybe not Ross’s gull but most.

It took me years to locate some birds that my friends seem to find routinely—least bittern, worm-eating warbler, Kentucky warbler, and vesper sparrow, to name a few. Those same friends enabled some of my most coveted sightings. The birding community is incredibly supportive.

We do remember the misses, though. In 2015, I went all the way to Quincy, Illinois, to bag an ivory gull—another rare white wonder from the far north, and the first in Illinois since 1992. Too late, the bird was gone.   

This is a hobby, not life or death, and there are always birds to see. In Quincy, I recall watching eagles soar against a pure blue sky and a pileated woodpecker pounding away on a snag. A tufted titmouse called. Nature awards some fine consolation prizes if we are open to receiving them.

Fast forward to 2020, when dozens of birders scurried to Deer Grove Forest Preserve in Palatine for a Townsend’s warbler, a rare visitor to the Midwest. Once again, I couldn’t get away. Oh well, I thought, I’ll see that bird someday—maybe out west where it belongs.

Sure enough, in January, my wish came true. I was birding at Madera Canyon in the Tucson area with my friend Chuck, a Chicago retiree on an extended winter getaway. Walking down a snow-dusted trail, we encountered a striking Townsend’s warbler, a most welcome surprise.

Chuck Berman (left) and Jeff Reiter

Three more lifers followed, and only one, yellow-eyed junco, was fully anticipated (thanks to Chuck’s scouting report). Hepatic tanager was a bonus, and Chuck later guided me to a small park in Green Valley for Lawrence’s goldfinch.

So, I’m back to my initial question about birding style. My experience in Arizona was just about perfect—easy pace, no pressure, let’s just see what we see. The only thing we chased was a good time.

In her new book, “Slow Birding,” Joan Strassmann urges us to relax and pay more attention to the birds all around us. That’s good advice that we probably don’t hear enough. Patience and careful observation go a long way.

How we bird is a personal choice. You can watch birds from your kitchen window, a park bench, or a wheelchair. You might travel the world to see exotic birds or track down rare birds all over Chicagoland and the Midwest. With so many options, the hobby is accessible for everyone.

Keep a list, keep 10 lists, or forego listing altogether. Fire up eBird, Merlin and GroupMe, or head into the field unplugged, with just a raggedy old Peterson guide. Bird alone or with others. Hang a feeder or not.

My own approach to the hobby is mixed. I love watching my yard, slow birding in familiar or new places, and writing about what I see. Experiencing new birds and growing my life list is fun for me, but I’ve morphed into a reluctant chaser. I’ll drive to see a rare bird only if it fits my schedule, isn’t too far, and the odds of success are high.  

Know your style and wear it proudly. There’s no crying in baseball, and no shame in birding. Do what feels right and gives you joy.

Copyright 2023 by Jeff Reiter. All rights reserved.