The Audubon Societies 333 



off shore, preseating a puzzling exterior. Although of scaup-like build, it had a 

 peculiarly bright rusty appearance on the sides and back, which, streaked with 

 white, at once caught the eye of the observer. Was it a female Greater Scaup — 

 I cannot think so — or, perhaps, a female Wood Duck? The question must be 

 settled, I suspect, in a museum where its duplicate may be found, although, 

 if I wait the chance, I may sometimes see its like again with more assurance 

 of its identity. It is rather tantalizing, and yet it adds to the interest of the 

 harbor, to have an unidentified species appear there. Once an immature Little 

 Blue Heron strayed in from the far South. What an eventful time it was! 

 An immature Bald Eagle flew over the harbor too, when the timely presence 

 of an expert ornithologist left no doubt as to its identity. Often an Osprey 

 visits the inner harbor, sometimes with a mate. It is not far from the locality 

 of the harbor, as a Crow flies, to the secluded breeding-refuge of the Osprey on 

 Gardiner's Island. It is quite possible that a pair may breed nearby, as was 

 true years ago, before the State Fish Hatchery protected its young fry by 

 trapping or shooting the Kingfishers, Green Herons, and occasional Ospreys 

 which visited the artificial lagoons where the fish are reared. 



Sometimes I feel that wonders never cease. Even at this moment, a Turkey 

 Buzzard flew by, the first of its kind perhaps ever recorded at this particular 

 point. One must be vigilant to keep up with the feathered visitors to the 

 harbor. It is not a large harbor, but it seems very spacious when the tide goes 

 out and twenty or more Herons steal in, each to a favored location, and Gulls, 

 Swallows, Crows, and Terns keep coming and going. 



One longs for eyes on all sides, to watch exactly what is happening, for 

 no single pair can follow the movements of all these birds at once. It must 

 be a glance here and a glance there, with a frequent steady survey of the 

 entire harbor through stereo-binoculars. Every summer I wish I might devote 

 my entire time to the harbor at low tide, and at high tide too, for that matter. 

 Perhaps then it would be possible to really know all that goes on. As the tide 

 comes in, the Herons fly to adjoining woodland, to roost on favored trees, not 

 all at a time, usually singly, though sometimes in straggling groups. 



The Green Herons seem to time their period of feeding somewhat differently 

 from the other Herons, while the Crows, who are easily alarmed, doubtless 

 find a part of their daily ration elsewhere. There is so very much that I have 

 not seen yet, even after twelve summers, that I look upon the inner harbor 

 still, as an almost unexplored territory. 



In thinking about your areas of observation, and each of you has some such 

 place, even in the largest city, if you will search and find it, it seems to me you 

 would do well to choose a few birds to study closely this year. You can hardly 

 hope to learn all there is to know about them, but you can at least make a more 

 intimate acquaintance with them than you could if you tried to study many 

 different species of birds. I would suggest that you first select an area where 

 you can make daily observations without going to a great distance, and, having 



