A word of warning: When you go on a nature outing with a passionate wildlife photographer, prepare for sudden halts. As a budding birder, I can completely relate to this. Today’s Activity Leader is both an ardent nature lover and a talented photographer. It should be quite entertaining!
On this cool and cloudy spring afternoon, our group of six is cycling a twenty-kilometer route on a designated bike trail. Fortunately for us, the ominous clouds appear to be dissipating. The last thing we want is to be drenched before we even begin. Except for the lower temperature, the weather prediction seems to be fairly accurate, but we head off with an extra water-resistant layer just in case.
We have barely travelled around a few curves when the lead cyclist holds up his hand as a signal to stop. He is eager to point out an active Bald Eagle’s nest across the way. Just as I thought, we are about to have a guided wildlife tour. I smile in anticipation. Bald Eagles are not as rare as people seem to think. There are quite a few along the St. Lawrence River corridor, but they are still a treat to see.
On the move again, we pass an Osprey emitting a succession of chirps from its nest high up on a platform and later, a couple of Mute Swans in the nearby wetlands. I listen to the bird songs as I pedal, some of them standing out by their unique melodies. Once initiated into the world of birding, it is tough to turn it off, but I try to restrain myself by remembering that not everyone on this outing is a birdwatcher. I carry on, resisting the urge to turn on my Merlin App to identify the sounds I am hearing. I secretly hope that I will not see a new species today as there is nothing worse for a birder to miss obtaining photographic evidence of a “lifer”, a term used by ornithologists to describe a first-time bird identification. It reminds me of the internet meme of a bird landing on top of the camera instead of in front of the lens. To an outsider, this may seem comical, but to the one standing behind the camera it illustrates a missed opportunity.
Before long, we pause again so that our guide can point out an Osprey nest in a tree, not a man-made platform this time, but a natural set-up. Just a little beyond that are beaver lodges, one on each side of the marsh; both in use. Finally, we are shown an otter holt made from an abandoned beaver lodge. Apparently, otters are opportunistic mammals and often take advantage of vacant structures which, in the long run, saves them a lot of effort.
After a brief pause so that a cyclist from our midst can satisfy an ice cream craving, we are ready to climb a long hill to have a good rest on its summit where benches are conveniently located. I boost the power on my e-bike and make it up without breaking a sweat. I love this bike! From here, we have an unobstructed view of the St. Lawrence River with a glimpse of a ship to the east. At last, the sun has chosen to make an appearance, and the sky has turned a cerulean blue! High above us, three Ospreys are soaring. According to our knowledgeable leader, this is called thermal uplifting and consists of rising columns of warm air, which they can capitalize on to gain altitude with minimal effort.
The return trip has fewer stops, one by the river to watch an Osprey dive into the water and fly off with a prize fish in its talons, another initiated by me by an open field in search of an elusive Bobolink once spotted there nesting in the tall grass, and finally to watch a flock of turkeys waddling in single file towards the protective shadows of the forest.
It has been a wonderful ride. I can almost feel the boost of serotonin to my brain from all this sight-seeing. I hope everyone enjoyed the tour. Perhaps, though, some of our two-wheeled contraptions should come with rear notices reading: “Caution: This bicycle makes frequent stops.” It’s something to ponder.
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