A Black-legged Kittiwake Appears

James Joyce wrote his great novel Ulysses about a single summer's day in his home city of Dublin. In fact, he devoted a lifetime of artistry to his observations of the people and happenings in his home city.

If you spend enough time around birders, talk will inevitably drift to upcoming trips to exotic locations or rarities in far-away locations. “Did you hear about the Icterine Warbler on St. Paul Island?” someone might ask. You could respond with a polite “No, I didn’t!”, while internally shrugging because, let's face it, you’re not there and jet-setting across the globe isn’t in your immediate plans. As birders, we should also learn to embrace the present and appreciate the birds that grace our immediate surroundings. By closely observing local birds we can glean universal lessons that that enrich our understanding, regardless of where our birding trips might take us in the future.

One thing I love about BirdingApp is that you're a local no matter where you happen to be. Recently, I was back for the holidays in my hometown of Reno, NV, but it has been so long that I felt like a stranger. I had the contact information of only one local birder on my phone. When I found an immature Black-legged Kittiwake at the city park I knew it was critical to get the word out as soon as possible. It would be dark in half an hour, so if I waited to submit my eBird list it could be too late. This spot also has a history of rarities leaving overnight.

In desperation, I posted an RBA on BirdingApp, with a quick digiscope and a pin of where the bird was. Fortunately, one birder nearby had BirdingApp, received the alert notification instantly, and called everyone he knew! I also used the "share post" feature to send a link to the contact I knew, which eventually got posted on the local listserv. Several birders were even able to see the bird at night, proposing that “night gulling” should be a new Olympic sport.

Luckily, the bird was found again the next morning and continued throughout the day. But things took a turn for the worse. By the afternoon it was clear the bird was sick, as it sat motionless on a quiet corner of the beach, watching the movement and life all around. Did it have memories of its chaotic birth, on crowded ocean cliffs in the gulf of Alaska? What were the factors that caused it to drift so far from its ocean home, over the mighty Sierras, to end up in this bustling high-desert city, surrounded by California Gulls, strange lights and casinos?

Sadly, the next morning it was found dead. In the last days of its only months-long life, this beautiful bird imparted memories upon dozens of birders that will last a lifetime.

As Joyce would say, “A gull. Gulls. Far calls. Coming, far! End here”.