Snow by Any Definition

Western Snowy Plover


Snowy does not always mean what you think. California, a land of contrasts if there ever was one, plays host to two highly endangered birds: the huge California Condor and the tiny Western Snowy Plover.
With a name like Snowy, you’d suspect the bird had some connection to lands farther north than California, especially the beaches of California. Not so. Linnaeus named this small bird (Charadrius alexandrinus) in 1758 (Syst. Nat. 10(1):150) for its presence in Alexandria, Egypt. It’s found, in small numbers, worldwide. I suppose it got the snowy part of its name from its ghost-like color.
The Pacific Coast population of the Western Snowy Plover is federally listed under the Endangered Species Act of 1973 as threatened. The Western Snowy Plover is a Bird Species of Special Concern in California. Snowy plovers were listed as endangered under Washington’s (state) Department of Game Policy, and as threatened by the Oregon Fish and Wildlife Commission. A lot of folks are concerned about this tiny bird, only the size of a fat sparrow.
Plovers will use almost anything they can find on the beach to make their nests, including kelp, driftwood, shells, rocks, and even human footprints.



Footprints make a great spot to rest

Although it was not nesting season while Susan and I were recently in California, we visited a protected area near Isla Vista where we had found the bird in the past. Sure enough, a few birds were hanging out, eating bugs, doing all those plover things, paying little attention to us humans.
Unfortunately, that could be the birds’ downfall. It tolerates us, and other creatures, to the point of its own demise. It nests in piles of dead kelp, even human footprints. It’s easy pickins for dogs, and many other introduced predators. When disturbed enough they will run away, leaving the nest and eggs vulnerable.
I sat and watched the birds for a while to see what they do, since surfing, texting and television do not seem to be part of their game plan. It seems what the do best, or most, is watch. They watched me watching them. They watch the tides and the foaming waves. They seem to like to stand and feel the wind and its direction, then turn accordingly so their feathers can ruffle. They watch each other for companionship and to initiate a chase for no reason I could determine. They particularly watch human activity. They watch people walk past. They watch dogs on leash and off leash, it doesn't make a bit of difference to them.
The longer I watched the more I realized I was getting a life lesson here and I better pay attention.



Feeling the wind, checking the footprints, another busy day for a Western Snowy Plover