Amazing footage! Well, frightfully embarrassing, but I remember the incident -- it made the local newspaper, and I had to rent a vehicle for the duration of that visit (the Wildcat was temporarily impounded), and cover Margaret with a sleeping bag during our entrance while she remained very, very still and quiet at the Pelee gate for the next two days, lest she be recognized and the two of us ignominiously turned away ...
I suppose I should thank you, Walter, for submitting this late-70's (I'm not sure of the exact year; back then Pelee was an annual trek -- including quite a few Autumn visits, which I highly recommend to all you readers -- the last two weeks of September can be every bit as amazing as the Big Spring Thing, without the sometimes elbow-to-elbow crowds which I've learned to ignore when necessary. A seemingly constant movement of raptors making their way down the east side near the tip, the two of us just lying half-propped against a comfy chunk of driftwood, sun shining at 20* ... perfect conditions for fine-tuning identification; all species of swallows drifting back and forth at eye-level, the deafening cacophony of some 6,000 or more blue jays launching themselves out over Lake Erie, circling back and alighting in the larger trees all day. Just when we thought it couldn't get any louder, a Cooper's appeared on the scene every now and then (we fortunately missed a few direct hits on the noisy corvids; not so for the sharpie who nailed a white-breasted nuthatch close up and personal -- what a ghastly shriek when it was hit. The truly horrific ending: a mob of ring-billed gulls chased the accipiter out over the lake, where it succumbed to the harassment by dropping its catch into the water and the nuthatch had its life snuffed out in the gullet of one of these scavenging opportunists. I know, I know -- everyone's got to make a living, and I'm still living in The Golden Age of Anthropomorphism here, but it was most unpleasant how it played out.) Many more vignettes for another time. Helpful note: When the sharp-shinned hawks are everywhere to be seen, one has to look low in the underbrush for songbirds and other menu items -- you'll notice them moving furtively, one eye scanning the sky at all times. It's also a great time to get your "confusing fall warblers" sorted out ...
The film (she looks so young in the shots) appears to be a record of her deranged celebration (or was the parking brake on again?) shortly after she blew by the propane jeep and its horrified cargo at a speed which I've never asked about. Reports of melanistic scarlet tanagers, wood thrushes, wood warblers, vireos, white-tailed deer, etc. poured in to the interpretive centre for weeks ...
So, thanks, Walt, and a special thanks to the moderators here for their obvious "good sport" approach to the "Anything Goes" section. We'd love to see any Fond Memories of Point Pelee tales -- I have quite a few, when I travelled alone (Did I just hear a collective sigh of relief?) or with others, dating back to ca. 1972, way back when you could buy awful (but sustaining) hot chocolate from a machine in a building near the tip, one could wander off the trails without realizing the damage they were causing, and you could legally park your vehicle south of the 401! Honestly!
Oh ...The expected migrants are back, but nothing out of the ordinary to report. Sure is nice to hear robins singing in the morning again ...
--nb
