Dan's Feathursday Feature: Sanderling

Among birds on the shore eating mollusks
Whether Killdeer or Willet or Wood Ducks
     One bird in particular
     Can’t be too gesticular
‘cause the Sanderling’s lacking a hallux

OK, Ogden Nash I’m not, but if this little ditty had you scrambling for a dictionary to look up the final word, mission accomplished. It seems that somewhere along the ebb and flow of evolutionary transformation, the Sanderling had done with its big (hind) toe, and now scampers around hallux-less. On both feet, no less.

And none the worse for it, either. If you are on a beach crowded with sandpipers of various types, one way to pick out the Sanderlings is to look for the small, plump black-legged ones and then sneak up close enough to see if they are missing their hind toes. An easier way is just to look for the most hyper-active birds on the beach. That’s probably the Sanderlings. It’s as if lacking hind toes prevents them from sitting back on their heels; they seem to be always leaning forward, always in motion, even when standing still.

Sanderlings tend to gather in energetic clusters at that border zone where each wave expends itself in the sand. When a new wave rolls in, they skitter back as if to avoid getting wet, then just as quickly they pivot and rush into the wave as it recedes, poking their short beak into the sand during that brief instant while the sand is soft and roiled by the wave. Over and over, wave after wave, they can be so intent on their wave chasing that they often pay little mind to humans who share their beach. They will draw very close, suddenly realize you are there, and then flitter further down the beach, creating their own airborne wave of sparkling wings, skimming the water’s surface. Sit still long enough and they will eventually work their way back to you, over and over, imitating in their own actions the ebb and flow of the waves that are their life source.

There is method to their frenetic madness. As each wave rolls in, it sets in motion a marvelous drama that is totally unappreciated by us bigger creatures. Tiny invertebrates by the thousands lie in hiding an inch or so beneath the surface of the sand. They wait for each incoming wave to roil and loosen the sand, and in those few seconds they rush up from hiding, into the swirling stew, to devour what they find. In a square meter of sand at the water’s edge there can be as many as 4000 miniscule mollusks and crustaceans eking out a living. That’s what the Sanderlings are after as they rush into each receding wave. Imagine picking ditalini out of a pot of minestrone with chopsticks, and you can understand why Sanderlings seem always so busy.

The Sanderling is known as a circumpolar Arctic breeder. It nests in summer in a narrow Arctic ring that completely circles the North Pole. In autumn it heads south to the temperate and tropical beaches of the Americas, Europe, Africa and Asia. It is one of the most widespread of all shorebirds. Whatever beach you head to in the winter, there is a good chance you will find Sanderlings chasing waves. Be quiet and still as they draw close. Marvel at the drama that unfolds at your feet in microcosm with each wave. As those tiny birds move up and down the beach with the rhythm of the waves, let them speak to you of ebbs and flows, of the grander rhythms of nature that unite this bird and us on the grand beach we call earth. It may be that they know it better than we do.

Dan's Feathursday Feature is a regular contribution to the COS blog featuring the thoughts, insights and pictures of Chicago birder, Dan Lory on birds of the Chicago region.