Sometimes things don’t work out quite the way we’d planned them.
Last year, I loaded my kayak onto the bed of my pickup and spent several hours the first morning of the Great Backyard Birdcount on a placid Lake Springfield. I got some good images of a great blue heron, a kingfisher, several duck species and some wild turkeys. And, I counted species and populations for the annual citizen science project as well. It was cold last February, but sunny enough that I got used to the temperatures quickly.
My plan was to do pretty much the same thing this year, combining kayaking with photography and counting. The day started off warm, but windy. Too windy to hold a kayak steady and certainly too windy to make for effortless paddling. A front was to move in by the afternoon, but I thought I might make it onto the lake for an hour or so before its arrival. I planned to be in Springfield anyway to attend an appreciation cookout presented by the good folks at Valley Water Mill, where I volunteer as a Master Naturalist several times during the year.
By mid-afternoon, as I left the cookout, the cold front had already slammed into Springfield. I decided to drive across town anyway and give the lake a try.
Even if I was brave enough (or stupid enough) to tempt the waters, it wasn’t going to happen. A sheet of heavy ice spread out at least 125 yards from the landing. The upper part of the lake—as far as I could see—was also concealed below ice. Even the cove where I’d planned to sit was socked in. I thought I could probably slide on my kayak for a fun trip out, but saw no way I could paddle back to shore.
I spent an hour in the frigid cold counting and shooting what I could. Most of the species were gathered in the water pockets off the ice shelf far to my right. I didn’t get any good shots, but a chance to count some birds and view some species I don’t often see was enough to add a little warmth back into my bones. Some northern pintails flew overhead, as did an immature bald eagle. Off in the distance, I saw canvasbacks, mallards, and some redheads. Ring-billed gulls circled a patch of open water, and black vultures rode rocky air currents without the need to flap their wings.
While it’s always more fun to return home with a card full of pictures, at least the day was not a total loss. Birds and burgers were plenty reward for someone foolish enough to be the only person at Lake Springfield that day.