When Opportunity Knocks

My mom chuckled at me when I brought my binoculars on our quick trip to the store. "You going birding at Costco?" was essentially what she said.

I didn't really know why. I just knew I had to make the most of the time I had. I had to pay attention. The recent rains have filled the San Joaquin Valley's numerous reservoir ponds, and gulls and geese fly over all day.

Riding past the pond across from Costco, I looked over and saw a form that was a little too white. At 35 mph, I still managed to train my binocs at the form and saw a definite merganser shape.

I don't know how shocking this will be for die-hard listers; you're probably getting used to it by now. I'd never seen a merganser outside of the Sibley. We didn't exactly have leisure time to stop at the side of busy "no stopping any time" roads. There was a family to feed at home. Coming out of the store with both hot and cold food, however, my gracious and considerate mother volunteered to drive back to the pond for "three minutes or so."

The side we had to park on was far away, so we observed on this side a Great Egret, Snowy Egret, several coots and grebes and a couple of Killdeer. "That's the Killdeer talking," I said to Mom, who said, "I hear only children." (The pond is next door to a small park.)

In the middle of the pond were several small diving ducks with white cheeks; even with all the recent ducking I've been doing, I still thought of Bufflehead first and later found them to be Ruddy Ducks.

But that one white form was still far away. Ignoring the rude yelling passersby, I trotted further down the sidewalk and looked: yes. Reddish bill and beautiful white sides, riding low in the water. I knew it was a merganser; any satisfaction had to come from that. Sibley would have to tell me later what kind. Mom appreciated it, too, so much so that she did not remonstrate for the three minutes that had turned into sixteen.