By Wes Homoya
Featured Image by Ryan Sanderson
A few weeks ago, on Sunday December 22nd, dozens of birders (some of you know us by our old name, “birdwatchers”) including myself were participating in the Eagle Creek Valley Christmas Bird Count. This annual tradition organized by the National Audubon Society gathers avian enthusiasts from around the world to form teams to count every bird they see in their area for an entire day, so long as that day falls between 11 days before Christmas and 11 days after it. Little did we know that an extremely unlikely visitor would be showing up in our neck of the woods.
Early that afternoon, as luck would have it, local bird photographer Darlayne Coughlin made a huge discovery while checking out some of Brownsburg’s finest retention ponds (yes, we birders are known to find interesting many places others do not). What could this epic find be that would bring so much joy and delight to hundreds (yes, hundreds) of birders from all over the state and even the country (some driving here just to see it, some already here visiting family for the holidays)? A little bird called a Red Phalarope.
Red Phalaropes are actually only red(dish brown) during their breeding season in spring and summer. Nesting in the Arctic tundra, these robin-sized shorebirds typically migrate along both Atlantic and Pacific coasts, out on the open ocean where it also winters, sometimes as far south as Peruvian offshore waters. Phalaropes are striking sandpipers not well-known to the general public but are beloved by birders for their sharp looks and for their whirling foraging style as they pick insect larvae and other aquatic invertebrates from the surface.
“Our” Red Phalarope was not red, however, but instead was in its subtly lovely black-and-white winter plumage, looking somewhat akin to a small dove or gull. This bird had somehow gotten mixed up during its fall migration and headed south for the Great Lakes instead of west or east to the sea, and then inexplicably found a small pond amongst big buildings and busy roads and enjoyed a brief vacation in our humble neighborhood. Here it stayed for a full 10 days, an incredible length of time for a vagrant like this to stick around in such an odd (and tiny) locale.
Showing up on the exact day of the local bird count, then leaving on New Year’s Eve, our feathered friend certainly had a flair for the dramatic and a taste for irony. If you’re not a birder, this whole tale may seem silly to you, but I hope it will make you smile to know that for a week and a half in late December, your little slice of the Heartland was home to a touring celebrity. It is no exaggeration to say that this winged wanderer entertained our nature-loving community for dozens of hours. Twas truly a holiday miracle, and perhaps with a bit of seasonal mirth and myth, one might even dream to consider it as a little cheerful helper from the North Pole… 😉
Images 1, 2, and 3 by Ryan Sanderson
Image 4 by Darlayne Coughlin
