Nine hours of driving. Four hours of bitter cold birding. And five minutes of THIS:
Trace Stagg noticed an unusual visitor in her Lumsden yard on Saturday, February 6 … it turned out to be a FIELDFARE! This European thrush is a cousin to our familiar American Robin, and a very rare visitor to North America. Newfoundland has more records than most places on this continent, with this one making nine — and all but one of those was “before my time” as a birder. I was itching to go see it, but Lumsden is located on the northeast coast and more than four hours from my home in St. John’s. A handful of birders made the trek on Sunday, but I was busy and had to wait. Oh, that wait!
I made last-minute plans on Sunday evening, and hit the road at 5am Monday morning. I met up with fellow birder Diane Burton near her home in Glovertown (~2/3 of the way along) at 8am, and we made the rest of our hopeful drive together over snow-covered roads. A handful of other birders had been looking for about 20 minutes when we arrived, with no luck. Despite the cold (-18C windchill), we zipped up our coats and started searching the neighbourhoods on foot – knowing that it had been somewhat elusive and wide-ranging the previous day. We found a few dozen American Robins spread around feeding on frozen dogberries (mountain ash), an incredible number of Pine Grosbeaks, lots of Purple Finch, American Goldfinch, Chickadees, White-winged Crossbills and even some Common Redpolls … but no Fieldfare.
After an hour, I saw two Robins fly over – then another bird that looked suspicious as it dipped behind some houses and out of sight. I stayed in the area for several minutes, hoping to see the mystery bird again. Suddenly, I saw the Fieldfare flying high overhead and across the road, and heard its distinctive “tchack” call (a sight and sound I was familiar with from my time living in Finland!). Running full speed down the road, I managed to see it drop down behind some houses and called out to the other nearby birders. A few minutes later, Diane spotted the Fieldfare feeding in a large dogberry tree behind one of those houses, and we all had distant but more or less clear looks for several minutes. We walked to the far corner of the unoccupied house, but the Fieldfare remained mostly hidden on the far side of the tree for several minutes – then promptly flew off and out of sight. I had managed to snap just one photograph — of its distinctive rump through a tangle of twigs & branches! It was the only one I’d get all day. Despite another three hours of combing the neighbourhood, we never really saw it again. I “may” have seen it fly over at least once, and am certain I heard it calling about two hours later, but it never gave us another look. Feeling happy (yet somehow a little unsatisfied!), we hit the highway and started the long drive home.
Was it worth it? Every single second! What an amazing bird.