An Amazing Ballet of Birds

Semipalmated Sandpipers

Before I launch into this post, I must first confess that I have, once again, been expecting something specific… as if photographing a moose (or any other large animal) would in some fashion validate our adventure east.  Like our Hyder experience (will I never learn?), I expected a certain outcome and have been disappointed that it hasn’t come.  I wanted to photograph something “larger than a rabbit.”

Thank heavens we serve a loving, merciful, and amazing God!  Yet once again, He has offered me so much more… more than I could possibly imagine.  And it has come in the form of creatures smaller than the palm of my hand.

When David spoke with the assistant at the St. Stephen visitor’s center, she told him that there were thousands of birds at Mary’s Point and circled the place on the map as a “must see.”  David heard the first word “sand” and assumed them to be sandhill cranes.  We decided that thousands of cranes would certainly be something special to see, so we embarked this morning on a mission to find them after a visit to Cape Enrage, a famous site on the Bay of Fundy.

Cape Enrage was engulfed in deep fog when we arrived, so we ventured on to see the cranes.  We traveled to Mary’s Point and were disappointed to find only a few ducks and geese. 

We traveled on to the small town of Harvey and stopped by their visitor’s center.  Three beautiful young ladies told us that we had driven right past the bird sanctuary and offered directions.  They also told us that we should be looking for sandpipers, not sandhill cranes.  Having grown up along the Gulf Coast, I knew the story of the endangered sandpiper and my curiosity was piqued.

We finally found the sanctuary and its information center, buried, off the road and surrounded by foliage, including large crabapple trees and pines.  Another couple arrived at the same time, lamenting how late they were for the tides.  “Does that matter?” I asked.

Indeed, it did.  When we went inside the visitor’s center to ask if Roxanne was allowed on the trail, the young lady informed us that yes, Roxanne was welcome, and the best time to see the sandpipers was at high tide, which would be about seven this evening or tomorrow morning around six.  I asked how many birds we might see.  She said that yesterday’s count numbered over 30,000. 

These tiny little birds are on the endangered species list.  They nest and fledge their young in the Arctic.  By July, they begin flocking to leave for their winter homes.  First the females gather to fly.  During the next four to six weeks, nearly 75% of the world’s Semipalmated sandpipers migrate through this area. 

The sandpipers that visit the shores of Mary’s Point ultimately fly to their winter homes in South America in the Guyanas and Brazil.  It is their only stop on their 6,500-mile journey. 

Why here? The shores of the Bay of Fundy are filled with mud shrimp.  The sandpipers follow the retreating tides to feast on these nutritious crustaceans.  A single sandpiper can eat as many as 20,000 mud shrimp in a single tidal cycle.  At Mary’s Point, they eat to double their weight and restore their energy in order to survive the remainder of their treacherous journey.

Mary's Point, New Brunswick

David and I took the five-minute walk down to the shoreline.  We were on the downhill side of low tide.  With binoculars, we could see a multitude of the tiny birds several hundred yards away, bobbing their heads as they feasted on mud shrimp along the edge of the tidal flats. 

Sandpipers feeding at low tide

We determined that 30,000 birds would be fascinating to watch.  David and I returned to Fundy National Park for the remainder of the day, returning promptly to the Mary’s Point bird sanctuary at 6 pm.

David and Rox at Mary's Point

Words simply cannot express what we witnessed.  With less than a dozen companions at our side, we watched as the tide came ever closer and the sandpipers increased in number. 

When we arrived, there were several thousand of these small birds huddled along the shore.  Within the hour, thousands and thousands more joined them.  As the incoming waves licked at their toes, the birds closest to the water would take flight.  Suddenly a wall of birds would launch skyward, swirling over the birds still on land, and ultimately landing behind them.

Sandpipers fill the shoreline

The sun was setting, and the light was perfect.  Groups of birds began to rise from the shore and dance across the sky.  As they swooned right, their bodies were dark.  As they pivoted left, their white bellies would catch the sun in a dazzling and immediate costume change.  

Sandpipers dark bodies

Sandpiper white bodies

Their wings beat a violin-like melody as they danced.  It was utterly amazing.

Sky-filled Sandpiper ballet

At high tide, the entire flock took to flight in a synchronized ballet.  Their bodies danced and dove across the water and high into the sky.  In unison, they skimmed several feet above the surface of the sea, undulating in an enormous, wave-like pipe.

It was as if they danced to tell us the story of their lives and journeys… like an ancient folk dance, only told through the beat of feathered wings.  Their ballet first made shapes of the waves, the sun, the moon.  Suddenly, a throng of birds broke free from the wave, churning into a whirling vortex like a winged water spout. 

Next, the birds swayed back and forth across the sky.  They began to break into smaller groups. One group would spin in a seemingly orchestrated fouetté, forming symbols of their home between sky and sea, land and water.  Others would pirouette to form mythic beasts and predators.  All appeared to be an ancient poem told in the form of thousands of tiny, beating wings.

We spectators could only gasp in total amazement.  Our sounds were oohs and awes, like those you might hear as an Olympic gymnast defied gravity to perform impossible aerial flips.  David, armed only with our tiny Powershot camera, valiantly tried to capture their dance to offer you a small taste of what we witnessed…

 Finally, the ballet faded into the horizon.  We all watched in wonder.  A small child whispered, “Are they gone?” 

Within minutes, however, we again saw a cloud that turned first black then white, swirling and twirling close to the sea.  The sandpipers swayed and skimmed across the water until they arrived once more to this tiny sliver of shoreline.

The sun began to set.  High tide had now passed.  The birds ventured to the shoreline once again and began to huddle together to roost until morning.  We packed our gear and walked back to the truck in silence.

Our amazing God has offered David and I yet another thing to marvel.  During each one of these adventures, He continues to proclaim His majesty in a way we had never fathomed.  What wonders does He have in store for us next?  Whatever it is… I promise that I will do my absolute best not to question if it is larger than a rabbit! 

Thank you, Dear Lord… and what’s next Papa!

“God's Spirit beckons. There are things to do and places to go! This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike "What's next, Papa?" God's Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who He is, and we know who we are: Father and children.”  Romans 8:14-16 (the Message)

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