Sunday, December 22, 2013
Purple Sandpipers at Cape Spear
It was actually the scoters and an odd incident that led me to get and walk around. I was sitting in the car in the parking lot scanning the area when I first spotted the scoters. I was contemplating whether to get out to make the walk.
While sitting there, a man drove up, got out of his car, donned his hat and gloves and reached into the car to pull out a long, sling-back case to throw over his shoulder. The case wasn't a typical gun case, but the shape was. "Uh-oh," I thought. Those scoters might be doomed. In an effort to prevent what I feared might be about to unfold, I got out and walked the lower trail while he walked the upper trail. When I reached the first look-out, I was stunned by the mournful, wailing sound coming from up above. The man was near the signs on the upper look-out blowing some type of horned instrument. What was that sound? If I had to compare it to anything it would be similar to an eerie whale song. What was going on? Not wanting to be too invasive, I didn't put my binoculars on him, but continued my walk toward his location. Then, without any further fanfare, the haunting sound ended. When I reached the upper deck, he was gone. What was that all about? I have long since given up trying to understand what I see and hear at Cape Spear. Nevertheless, I always find it engaging.