There were more birds than I could reliably identify. Godwits, dowitchers, sandpipers of several varieties. Also, plovers of at least a couple types: Some tiny semipalmated and what I believe was a lone black-bellied. Of course, present, too, were yellowlegs great and small.
The birds appeared singly, in pairs, and in flocks that whirled like dry leaves caught in a dust spout. The larger birds called and cried out while the tiniest ones – some rivaling hummingbirds in size – peeped urgently.
At the end of the day with the tide edging in fast, I was taking it all in, thankful to be in that place at that very moment, when a flurry of snow geese swept over and past, honking and flapping. It was a good place to be, that Shorebird Heaven. And I think I’ll be going back.