I arrived on the beach at the foot of Cranberry marsh at about 7:30 this morning. Didn't take the 401 because there was still no light before sunrise so I figured, why rush? Taking Bayly eastbound used up some time for the sun to rise and paint the landscape gold, antique gold. That always gets me, antique gold. What is antique gold, exactly? Being a noble metal it doesn't tarnish, or develop a patina, so what makes it antique? I digress again. There were definitely no water-buffalo on the marsh. Despite the adjunct to the water level there was not much of anything on the marsh. I laid out my mat and got comfortable near the west-side reeds because they were just being gilded by the sun. In only a few moments I saw a sora again, just one this time. There were sparrows coming and going: Swamp, Song and White-throated. I could hear Marsh wren in the reeds but not one appeared out in the open. There were Rusty blackbirds on the other side of the inlet and therefore too far away to photograph. There were no Greater yellowlegs on the marsh but just before I departed about a half dozen Lesser yellowlegs arrived and they were not shy. One had the audacity to get me to move my splayed legs to let it pass. I mean, come on! I would have done so anyway. There may have been a resident harrier just beyond the earth's curvature but nothing to photograph. One other note, there were a few Green-winged teal, mostly far off, but when I relocated to the next observation spot there was a teal right up front, close to shore, at least until another birder walked onto the scene to shoot yellowlegs, ignoring the teal, but causing it to get out of Dodge, tout de suite. Therefore I did not get a photo of it. By my estimation there were no bird photographers on site using a DSLR. Every one of them was equipped with a mirrorless camera. Exceptionally quiet and rapid shutters. I felt quilty being the only one there with a noisy shutter, despite being on muted-mode (quieter but slower). Then again, the constant chatter and conversation all around me may have tipped the decibel meter even higher, so there's nothing to feel guilty about.
