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November 18, 1999 - In search of the snow bunting6A, • The Suffolk Times November 18, 1999 In search of e snow bunti*tng A retired couple we know does a lot of walking. We on the East End are blessed by having a wide variety of, trails, roadways and beaches to choose from for this healthful activity. These friends of ours have a particular fond- ness for beaches and it was just the other day that Hayden called about a mysterious flock of 30 or more birds they saw on Focus their morning ON walk. When they described the NATURE spot where by Paul they'd seen these Stoutenbuirgh elusive birds, I knew exactly where it was. It was near a beach we as kids always called The Point. Many's the time we would gather our food, blankets and tent and head over to spend the night camping there. In those days a few people were around and a blazing bonfire would be the main attraction of the evening. Of course, sand got into everything, including the food. It would always be hot dogs roasted on a stick along with mickies, which I've referred to before as potatoes thrown in the fire to be baked, roasted or mostly burned. These, along with a can of beans cooked in the can, made up our menu. I can still taste those mickies, that is, after you got through the thick, char- coal- crusty covering. I can't remember having butter for them, but carrying butter would have been a disaster in the warmth of packing everything to- gether like blankets, tents, axes, food, etc. Everything went into a big bag for carrying. For drinks we had lemonade or iced tea that was hastily made up. Our after - dinner snack was usually a five -cent candy bar like a Baby Ruth or other goodies that Mom always seemed to slip in. We would probably have done some treading for clams, as they were always easily found on the sand bar that lay off the creek entrance in those days. They'd be steamed right at the edge of the fire and many a finger was burned by trying to taste them before they were properly taken off the cooking edge. It was here that I probably lost my first pocket knife and search as we could, it was never recovered. We did a lot of singing in those early camping days, songs like "My Old Man, number one, he played knick -knack on a gun..." There'd be nine or 10 stanzas sung as loud as our squeaky voices could bellow them out. I think it was a game of trying to keep awake. None of us had watches in those days. We'd keep our youthful bellowing up until someone would pronounce, "By now, it must be past midnight." In reality it was probably only about 10 p.m. but all eyes were drooping from the heat of the fire and full bellies. It wasn't long before sleep would take over even though sand in the blankets made it a bit scratchy. We never thought of sleeping on a mat- tress of any sort. The bare sand was just fine for us and you could wiggle your body down into it and get com- fortable. From all of us to all of you... A Healthy and Joyous Holiday Season v V Come join us for du U our annual tree - lighting, November 28, 6 P.M. o� George G. Young • v Community Center Aquebogue • Jamesport . Laurel Business Association 722-3396 WILDLIFE RESOURCES` QUALITY BIRD SEED at WAREHOUSE PRICES AVAILABLE NOW!! More Items Coming Soon! 734 -2096 'l Cox La. & Oregon Rd., Cutchogue Hours are Sat. & Sun. 10 - 4 'l Suffolk Times photo by Paul Stoutenburgh These brave little snow buntings travel to the Arctic to nest and spend the winter on the barren farm fields and windswept beaches of our North Fork. They can easily be recognized by the white In their wings as they fly off. Since those wonderful early camping days down on The Point, the area has been filled with dredge spoil and has lost its lush green marsh to the north. The sand bar we used to dig clams on with our feet and hands has been cut through the middle and its lifegiving littoral drift of sand has been stopped. Today there is no sign of the sand bar that was so productive and enjoyable for us in those early days. It seems that if you gain on one side of the equation you lose on the other. We now have a deep dredged channel but we've lost the clams and the joy of youthful romping on a sand bar. It was dredge spoil that was spread along the beach that Hayden and Lois had chosen for their walk. Above the high -water mark dusty miller, seaside goldenrod, sea rocket, dune grass and other seaside plants grew. It was the seeds of these plants the mysterious birds had been feeding on. From the description I was given, they could be one of two beach dwellers: horned larks or snow buntings. Both forage on windblown, open places similar to where they had been walking. Snow buntings are a true bird of the far north and I'd like to quote from one of the great compilers of bird literature, Arthur Cleveland Bent, from his "Life Histories of North American Cardinals, Grosbeaks, Buntings, Towhees, Finches, Sparrows and Allies ": "To those who dwell in the North Temperate Zone, the snow bunting is the very epitome of an Arctic bird, the true creature of the snows for which it is so aptly named. It usually appears in the dead of winter, often on the heels of a storm that has blanketed the country side with white." Snow buntings a favorite Snow buntings are one of my fa- vorite birds. I will never forget my first encounter with these delightful winter visitors. It was during those youthful days of duck hunting that I sat shiver- ing in a blind on windswept Meadow Beach when a flock of snow buntings scurried and fed within feet of my blind. They never noticed me while I watched in amazement as they picked up windblown seeds amongst the grains of sand. To me it seemed there was nothing there. From then on, whenever I see windblown areas in the winter, whether it's bare fields or empty beaches, I always look and hope to see those brave little birds scurrying about, eking out a living on seeds the plants and grasses provide. As Bent says, they are a true Arctic bird that go to the far north to nest each year and once nesting is over they immediately head south, but never to the warm south that most other birds prefer. Look for flash of white Snow buntings are a sandy - colored, sparrow -size bird that flash white in their wings when in flight. Horned larks are quite similar in habits and size to the snow buntings, but they do not show the white coloring in flight. It just so happened another local walking couple had called me a few days earlier about seeing snow buntings on their daily outing down along the causeway. We checked over the area and were unable to find these early birds that Jim and Carol had seen busily feeding on dusty miller seeds right along the beach edge. It did seem a bit early for them to arrive, what with the mild weather we'd been having. But with the fierce winds a week or so ago, I guess perhaps the wind had brought them in and would account for their early arrival. After we received the second call about these snow buntings, Barbara and I decided to check once again and see if we couldn't find some trace`of them. It wasn't long before we were walking over the very same beach that Hayden and Lois had taken earlier in the day. Up and down we went, but no snow buntings. We did see their tiny tracks in the sand around their food - supply plants. They must have taken every bit of seed on the beach, for look as we could we didn't see a bird about. Evidently they had fared well and moved on to more productive areas. On our way back we walked over the now - filled old campsite of yester- year. Probably archeologists some day will have a "dig" at this site and won- der what strange creatures built a fire there and left their clam shells in the rubble. Perhaps they might even find a rusty old pocket knife that I lost there so many long years ago.