Our Environment: “The Original Peeps" by Scott Turner

Our Environment: “The Original Peeps" by Scott Turner

The original peeps are not a holiday treat. Instead, they are several species of small shorebirds that assemble into flocks along our coastline.

Every mid-summer into fall, these peeps follow well-established routes south from breeding areas, as far north as the Arctic, to wintering grounds, as far south as Chile and Argentina.

Size-wise, most peeps are bigger than a sparrow but smaller than a robin. Their name comes from their most-common sound, whether feeding on tiny creatures on mudflats or whisking away in small flocks, which is “peep.”

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To us, September is the best month to enjoy peeps. That’s because, while many migrating shorebirds have already moved on, there is usually a significant number of these smaller birds lingering along the coast.

What’s more, post-Labor Day in September, the beaches are quite empty, meaning some days it’s just you and the peeps.

Such was the case last Sunday, as Karen and I walked the full length of a mile-long beach and back. On this first day after Dorian’s tropical passage, light wisps of white clouds streaked a blue sky. A steady breeze blew out of the northwest. The ocean water felt warm, looked clear, and the beach was sparsely populated with people.

Small flocks, however, of little shorebirds, dotted the shoreline. They followed the tide, feeding on the mudflat. I thought of those scattered flocks as roughly tenth-of-a-mile markers.

The peeps were small and uniform sized, featuring small heads, short necks, dark legs and what looked like straight dark bills. Their feather colors varied, though, from brown to gray/light brown.

I figured that the lightest birds were juveniles--those born this year. In the sunlight, their backs and wings displayed a handsome combination of black/bright gray/white-edged plumage. Those feathers and plumage on the browner birds, which I considered adults, featured a scalloped look.

Give their size, shape, color and time of year on the beach, my guess was that all of the birds were the flock-forming species known as Semipalmated Sandpiper. That name refers to the short webs between their toes.

In general, migrating shorebirds feed twice a day—at low tide and often on mudflats—devouring tiny aquatic worms, mollusks, and crustaceans. When we come upon shorebirds, we walk around, or away, from them. A Semipalmated Sandpiper, for example, weighs less than an ounce. Yet the bird migrates from the Arctic to South America and back.

Per the Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology, eastern populations of Semipalmated Sandpipers “probably undertake nonstop transoceanic flights” of up to 2,500 miles “from New England and southern Canada to South America, powered by extensive fat reserves.”

Such long-range tiny migrants need to be left alone to rest and feed for their long flights, which typically take them out and over the ocean.

From a perch about 100 feet away, we watched a flock of peeps peck the mud.

As each tide washed in, it left behind a line of bubbles that reflected the sunlight before popping into specks of silver sparkles.

We thought of those shimmers as fireworks to celebrate the comings and goings of the sandpipers, as well as a festive sendoff for their safe travels south.

 

Scott Turner is a Providence-based writer and communications professional. For more than a decade he wrote for the Providence Journal and we welcome him to GoLocalProv.com.