This past weekend marked the point in the chicks’ growth where all four of them no longer fit so easily under mom/dad plover… so they had to find shade elsewhere!

Here they’re hunkered down in the sand at the base of the ropes demarcating the closed area of the beach… in front of them is the 25 foot “buffer zone” we roped off once the chicks hatched. Beyond that is open beach and the blazing sun.

So… this Least Tern flies into a busy colony, finds a single girl looking lonely and offers her a fish…

; )

The fish is waved endlessly about in a teasing sort of way…

Notice how possession of the fish has changed ownership at this point in the dance…

; )

This is what I meant by “flirting with fish”… a slightly voyeuristic pleasure I’ve been able to enjoy and share with the casual unsuspecting beach-goer over the last couple weeks.

: )

It’s been fun to point out the naughtiness that’s taking place right under their sunburned noses…

So while a number of Least Terns continue to mate, the chicks of their neighbors are beginning to test their wings to fly for the first time… I’m looking forward to that in the coming week!

At one point late in the afternoon yesterday, something panicked the colony and set all the adults to the air and every last chick running toward the shoreline, toward the boundary of their protected area, toward the open beach and the kite-flying, volleyball-playing, sun-marinated and clueless public.

I’m not quite ready for that, yet.

I have pix of plover chicks from this afternoon that are just oozing sweetness, but I’m going to hold them close for a few days…

: )

Instead I want to share pix from last weekend, the Fourth of July, when the beaches were packed with people and the chicks were just barely a week old…

The important thing to know is that we all survived the holiday weekend; despite the hordes of people, the fireworks on the beach, the blazing sun and the occasional thunderstorm.

The parents kept the brood of four chicks close and spent the hottest part of each day in the high dunes.

Often an adult plover gathered the babies into the feathers of his/her breast to provide shade or comfort.

Plover chicks have to feed themselves so they must venture out onto the open beach to feed…

This is a dangerous time and they’re vulnerable; everyone is nervous… their parents… us volunteers…

The wrack line was relatively safe, though a parent was always close by to keep anyone from wandering too far from safety…

The volunteer monitors spent our time ushering people away from the ropes and feeding chicks. The chicks were mostly impossible to see at this point, so it took some convincing for people to actually believe there were baby plovers around.

We cheered them on each time they made their way to the waterline to feed.

They’re growing nicely and my camera is finding them much easier to focus on… if they ever stand still that is! Watching them feed is like watching a game of “Red Light, Green Light”… remember that as a kid?

: )

These babies can run!

The adult birds are still happy to pose!

*Please note that I haven’t cropped any of these pix, so please click to enlarge. Half the joy in this is watching them grow up and a big part of understanding the challenges these birds face is seeing them life-size in their surroundings, I think.

Piping plovers are running through my days and my dreams. I have stories to tell and photos to share, but little energy…

“Please watch where you step!” was the catchphrase for today, delivered with a smile to surfers and fishermen and young girls in tiny bikinis. Always the smile.

I’m in the PR business now, for Piping Plovers. Smiles are good PR*.

And there was plenty to smile about… it was a beautiful day, I got to see the sunrise over the ocean, and there were teeny-tiny Plovers afoot. (This is an adult, tho)

The Least Tern colony that the Plovers share was frantic today… I was dive-bombed at least a dozen times. That’s not such good PR, but it serves an important purpose.

At some point, midmorning, an adult Piping Plover carried and dropped this half eggshell near the ropes of the closed area. A khaki-colored egg flecked with brown that indicated #3 of 4 had hatched.

At sunset today, after 11+ hours of watching, a chick was finally within camera-shooting distance near the upper wrack line, #4 still hadn’t hatched, and I ended the best day at the beach in a good long while.

These babies are so incredibly tiny… like little bugs… like a mirage in the hot sand.

They are their own best PR… how could anyone resist such cuteness?!?

*One thing I love about the group that I’m volunteering with is that they’ve managed to get the general beach-going public on our side… they ask about how the birds are doing and help us to police the area… it feels as if the community is caring for these birds, which is very sweet.

The terns have been on eggs for weeks now, in all their exposed locations along the shore. Their dedication is inspiring; no less so because of the challenges they face.

The opportunity to watch them, to babysit them – as I’ve come to call it lately – reveals the little dramas that fill their days. Least Terns seem prone to drama. They continue to court and strut, and flirt with fish, even after the eggs have been laid.

Sometimes they even seem to dance, making even a mundane nest exchange into theater for the careful observer. They’re aggressive and anxious, even with their mates. Neighbors are met with outright hostility for the slightest trespass. A gull or Fish Crow overhead sends the small colony into panicked flight.

I’ve been trying for the past week or two to get a photo of a nest with eggs to share here, but haven’t accomplished that yet. The few looks I’ve had are too brief for a photo, but I can tell you this: the eggs are speckled with rock and sky and summer sands, and with the shadows woven by the beach grass that surrounds them.

Chicks have started to hatch in the last couple days and they are nearly as undetectable as the eggs they leave behind. Until they move, that is! There are two hidden in the tuft of beach grass to the right in the photo above.

Unlike Piping Plovers who are off and running to feed themselves within hours, the Least Terns scuttle around in the dunes waiting to be fed. Theirs is a steep learning curve; before they can learn to fish, these babies must learn to fly.

Until then, they rely on their parents for food and their cryptic coloration to keep them safe. “I am not here” say the markings on their sand-colored bodies, the lines and patches magically drawing your eye away from them. No sooner do you catch sight of one, then, look away and it vanishes.

Please click on the pic above to make it larger. Let yourself fall in love a little… I did!

This pic isn’t mine, but I include it for the “Awww” factor.

I’ve had some really wonderful interactions with beach visitors so far… most are respectful of the closed area of the beach and actually interested in the birds. Fun! I’m looking forward to setting up the scope there one of these days so others can see them and share some of the love.