While standing on the dune overlooks at the South Cape May Meadows, sorting through swarms of hungry Barn Swallows, I heard a sound like a a Brant talking through its nose, and knew immediately that the Gannets were getting chatty (advantage of spending three months in the North Atlantic in the last twelve).
For the unfamiliar, hearing Gannets while on the beach, south of a Gannet breeding colony, is not at all usual. They are not known for their vocal repertoire, and less for a willingness to show it off.
Now the really odd thing was that I was about a hundred yards from the water, and yet the Gannets were close enough to shore and loud enough to be audible from 100 yards away. (They were diving in some spots into about a meter of water-which seemed kind of suicidal to the non-Gannets looking on). These chortles were made by the few who were only yards away form the surf, there were hundreds in a scrum a few hundred yards off the beach, and plenty of Dolphins, and even herds of plunge-diving Laughing Gulls (terns have yet to arrive en masse) all indicating that baitfish are clearly on the move, and then some.
While not as unexpected, given the date, I was none the less tickled to find my first Chimney Swifts of 2012, tucked in among the swarms of Barn Swallows, and likewise punctual was the first handsomely marbled Eastern Willet I've seen this year, announcing his presence with territoriality from the tussocks.
Higbee's Beach was relatively quiet this morning, save for a few Blue-gray Gnatcatchers, more than a few Myrtle Warblers, and the most Yellow Palm Warblers I've yet seen this spring. A completely under-rated bird, a spring-time S. p. hypochrysea, with its sharp auburn cap, pin-stripes and turmeric underpainting. And any bird that sharp which spishes in so close it lets you snap its photo with a 7 year old point and shoot has more than its fair share of charm. Damned things never sing the same way twice though.
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