The Long-billed Dowitcher 
pursuit of the Shore-birds as among the most thrilling of human pastimes. 
Given a “reflecting” camera and a lofty disregard for personal appearance, 
one may have no end of fun—unforeseen difficulties, breathless suspense, 
sudden disappointments, increasing facility of approach, stupendous 
moments of opportunity, brilliant achievements—these are on the daily 
program of the bird photographer. And the trophies secured! They 
cause no one a pang, not even the bird; and are they not a joy forever? 
My most regal hours with the Shore-birds have been spent on the 
upper reaches of the tidal lagoons at Sandyland, near Santa Barbara. 
Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
THE NOONING 
If the tide is out, the flats are fairly a-crawl and a-clatter with Shore- 
birds of six or seven varieties,—Western Sandpipers, Least Sandpipers, 
Baird’s perhaps, Semipalmated Plovers, Killdeers (worse luck!), Wilson 
Phalaropes, a Willet maybe, and most certainly a scattering company 
of Long-billed Dowitchers. To approach these birds in the open one 
must move always with extreme deliberation and get as low upon the 
horizon as possible. I go to it barefoot and hump over the camera until 
I look like some amiable tortoise. Plowing along knee-deep in muck 
in such fashion involves some little dexterity, and it is very tiring. The 
exertion is not unlike that required by a slack-wire performer, for the 
foot penetrates the black depths in such irregular and unpredictable 
fashion, that one must constantly strain to maintain a reasonable balance. 
Now and then one encounters a soft seam, the Ailing of an ancient mud- 
I22J 
