THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, October 5, 1995 TAG: 9510050069
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: ECO-ADVENTURES
SOURCE: BY SCOTT HARPER, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 99 lines
DEW-COVERED pine needles and early sunsets signal more than the coming of autumn in Cape Charles. They mean the birds are returning, too.
Thousands are stopping over in the marshes, forests and beachscapes that make Virginia's Eastern Shore one of the most attractive respites for migratory birds on the Atlantic coast.
More than 150 species come to this narrow tip of the Delmarva Peninsula each fall and winter in search of food, shelter and rest. They include colorful young songbirds on their first migratory trek south from Canada, powerful hawks and majestic eagles, and short-distance flyers such as flickers and blue jays.
These also are exciting days for bird-watchers, a rare breed themselves, who find nothing odd about driving hundreds of miles and waiting hours in a morning damp for a chance to glimpse a yellow-billed cuckoo or a worm-eating warbler.
``You could say it becomes an obsession, a passion,'' veteran birder John Dillard of Richmond said of his hobby. Dillard was tending to a bird-banding station at Kiptopeke State Park last week, talking about how he has been counting and observing birds here for years during the autumn migration.
``It's magic for me,'' he said. ``I keep coming back, just like the birds.''
The banding station is one of 16 stops in Northampton and Accomack counties that visitors can see during a two-day celebration of the migratory season.
Now in its third year, the Eastern Shore Birding Festival on Saturday and Sunday is an opportunity for experts and amateurs alike to not only see an array of birds firsthand, but also experience the quiet, scenic environs that attract them here.
There are the salt marshes at the Eastern Shore of Virginia National Wildlife Refuge, where visitors can canoe for hours on a ribbon-like stream that zigzags through these sprawling seas of grass.
There is Fisherman's Island, with its gentle dunes and tidal ponds separating the Chesapeake Bay from the Atlantic Ocean, where staff will lead visitors on a two-hour hike through sensitive lands.
And there are private marsh-front farms, where landowners have agreed to open up their riparian forests and magnificent views of barrier islands for lengthy tours.
``It's a great chance to showcase what we have out here,'' said Scott Flickinger, manager of Kiptopeke State Park, a 375-acre outpost on the bay that opened in 1992.
But the festival is not shameless eco-tourism, the kind where visitors trample property and destroy habitat in the name of public education and wildlife awareness.
Flickinger stressed that the festival centers around access control. It works this way: Visitors gather at the Sunset Beach Inn, at the northern foot of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, where they pay their daily or weekend fee, choose an itinerary for the day and board shuttle buses for selected stops.
``You want to attract people to appreciate the birds, but not too many to distract them,'' Flickinger said. ``It's finding the right balance, and we're moving very conservatively.''
The festival, of course, means money for the struggling Eastern Shore economy. David Parker, executive vice president of the Eastern Shore of Virginia Chamber of Commerce, said the event generated $60,000 its first year and $112,000 last year.
As word of the festival spreads throughout the tight-knit birding community, attendance is expected to increase again this year, past the 2,000-person mark from last year, Parker said.
The festival also will feature workshops and guest speakers on such topics as ``Night Sounds,'' by Virginia Tech professor Jerry Via, and ``A Butterflies View of Nectar Plants,'' by Virginia Commonwealth University professor Richard Mills.
On a recent advance tour of festival stops at Kiptopeke, a small group of volunteers - mostly retired people in floppy hats and binoculars - gathered at the bird banding center to discuss their fascination.
They explained how most songbirds seen on the Eastern Shore are first-year migrators; older birds tend to fly south via the mountains in western Virginia.
They showed how young birds are not as colorful as adults, and how their feathers brighten as they get closer to the spring mating season.
Suddenly, one volunteer came rushing toward the group with a small mockingbird he had just caught in one of the thin badminton-like nets set up near the banding station.
Its gray and black feathers poked through his gentle clutch as he prepared to clasp a small silver band around its tiny ankle. But as he eased his hold, the mockingbird escaped and flew off into the forest. The volunteer sank with disappointment.
``Don't worry,'' said colleague Walter Smith. ``There's plenty out there for us to see. But he was a beauty, wasn't he?''
The birder turned and trudged back into the forest, in search of his elusive mockingbird.
``Boy, he's hooked,'' Smith grinned. ILLUSTRATION: Color photo
JIM WALKER/Staff
Mary Arginteanu releases a banded bird on Virginia's Eastern Shore.
by CNB