The ‘Assembled Multitude’ on a Florida Beach
It’s early morning and I’ve barely stepped onto the sands of Whitney Beach, across from our winter rental in Longboat Key, Florida and a sense of mystery permeates the air. A split second ago a mercurial warbler zipped around some tall beach grass and vanished before I could get my binoculars on it. Frustrating. I used to know the bird’s name but forgot it. However, I’m developing a mental file folder of its behavioral habits and when I get the name next time I won’t forget it.
The light is clear and the vague outline of the sun is coming through the gray sky as a brown pelican, the poster bird for the Gulf oil spill, is cruising barely inches above the Gulf of Mexico. The fins of three bottle-nosed dolphins break the water’s surface. Down the beach where the sand juts into the sea is a large group of various gulls, terns and skimmers that I call the “assembled multitude.” They are here every day and unlike my mystery warbler, offer long looks most of the day. I know all their names and have gotten to study their habits almost every winter day for more than four years. This morning there are numerous laughing gulls in their stark winter plumage of black, medium gray and white. More fly in and then some fly uncomfortably close to me. I don’t know if they are trying to push me further away or they are just taking up the available beach space where I’m standing, but I take it as a message. Twice before they’ve herded me away. No other bird on the beach is as aggressive.
In the group are terns, birds with bent back wings that hover above the water, diving in and sometimes coming up with a wriggling silver fish in their bills. There are a number of Forster’s terns here, which are small terns that dive into shallow water, sometimes acrobatically aborting those dives while turning on a dime. Standing on the beach they are built low to the ground like dachshunds, standing on orange/red or blackish/red legs. Seen from a side angle they have a black arrowhead shape covering the eye that extends in a straight line to their black bills which is interrupted by a small area of white on their faces. One facing me directly lowers its head, showing a delicate light gray cap. These terns are achingly lovely creatures and for me represent the infinite beauty of birds.
I’ve seen the Forster’s in flight, hovering and diving. However I’ve not seen them land or take off until now. Legs hanging in the air, one seems to lift off straight up and land straight down slowly like a helicopter. As it lifts over the water the tern gives off a short, high-pitched sound. A nearby ring-billed gull yawns like it sees this all the time. I haven’t and am impressed.
The tide is out and a mass of small and broken shells stretches over wet sand resembling a seashell graveyard. It is the Gulf’s daily offerings. Later people with bags and buckets will be walking, eyes to the ground looking for sand dollars, thick-lipped oyster drills, calico scallops, lettered olives and others. As my wife and I walk the tide line she notices thin, dark strands of weed on the white sand. Pointing them out, she says, “they are so pretty, they look like birds’ footprints.” There are large patches of bubbles of foam. Some gently ride in less than an inch of water parallel to waves; others are beached but show no sign of disappearing; yet others drift slowly back to the sea from whence they came. I walk through a wide swath of glistening water where the fluffy stuff is and some sticks to my feet.
Back at the assembled multitude there’s an immature ring-billed gull. When it matures, the black color covering the bill’s tip will partially shorten, leaving the very tip yellow and will resemble a “ring” on an otherwise yellow bill. Unlike the laughing gulls they are gentle. A laughing gull is by the water bending its head and picking at an aquatic morsel. To my surprise a long line of 20 black skimmers flying low over the water, come ever closer and land on the beach. With dark black bodies, red legs and red and black mandibles of uneven length, they are the real stars of the assembled multitude. It is these birds that casual walkers, tourists and photographers approach slowly, staring in silence. Within two minutes there’s a very long line of skimmers, easily 60, flying low over the water in silhouette. Coming fast they slant over the edge of the water and suddenly silhouettes become sleek black bodies with red and black bills. Once on the sand they look as if they are made of black velvet.
Skimmers are the most skittish birds on the beach. But that may work to their advantage at this moment as a pair of joggers comes straight at them. A mass of skimmers lifts off to get out of harm’s way flying low right in my direction. I involuntarily duck but have been in this situation before and know what to expect. The skimmers come low over my head but not on a collision course. The ones whose path I’m directly in veer away giving me a wide berth and a simultaneous thrill as they’ve done several times in earlier years. Thanks guys!
