The Henpecked Shorebird 

 That Goes to Sea 



12 



M J&* ♦ IT WAS SHORTLY AFTER MY EN- 



counter with the small catfish that I ran across an old bird 

 friend in the marsh— the northern phalarope. The area was 

 full of the hum of bees which busily occupied themselves in 

 harvesting the climax honey crop of loosestrife. Since then I 

 have always seen these birds under the same conditions in 

 the area so that they, the bees, and the rich fields of purple 

 bloom have been closely connected in my memory. 



The sight of the phalarope recalled the first time I had 

 seen it in the marsh. The canoehouse manager had hailed me 

 as soon as I arrived at the float. He said: 



"There's a queer bird swimming out there. It's light- 

 colored and floats high like a gull but it's too small for one. 

 And it keeps whirling and pecking at the water while it 

 moves. Looks like a shorebird, but if it is it's doing tricks 

 that I never saw a shorebird do before." 



"It's a phalarope," I said. "I often see them spinning like 

 that at this time of year on salt water. I never saw one in 

 the marsh before. We can add it to our records." 



"You can label it new and goofy.' It acts like a toy swung 

 on a string." 



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