Free as a Bird

(Black Skimmer)

I can recognize the changing of summer to fall by the return of Black Skimmers to the beach right at the end of our street. Their arrival is preceded by hundreds of immature Elegant Terns. The terns' raucous presence lasts about a month as they stuff themselves, preparing for their winter migration to the west coast of Peru and Chile.

Among them, you’ll see the occasional gull, but then, one by one and increasingly day to day, you’ll notice a thin line of very dark birds standing single file on their periphery, beak to tail. Yep. Skimmers are arriving. The flock may grow to many dozens or so in good years.

On bright days, their black and white feathers gleam and the orange on their beaks seems to blink as they turn their heads side to side. But the biggest thrill is watching dozens of them take flight and somehow become one. First, with bellies and underwings exposed, the gathering shines white, like a multifaceted mirror in the sky. In an instant the silver vision turns dark, a bottomless hole through the air, as they bank to show only the jet-black of their backs and upper wings.

White, black.

White, black.

White, black.