RIP Pink Fairy

 One more look back at 2021...

On November 27th, Benjamin Leigh Douglas found an immature Ross's Gull at the confluence of the Mississippi and St. Croix Rivers along the Minnesota and Wisconsin border. 

Ross's Gull was the last of the holy grail North American bird species I wanted to see. It graces the back cover of America's 100 Most Wanted Bird Birds book I was given many years ago in my infancy of birding. Its fairy-like pink plumage and delicate features are tantalizing to many a birder. 

Opportunities to chase this species have come and gone on past occasions. The Red Rock Reservoir, Iowa bird in 2013 involved a hefty 10-hour round trip drive for a very distant look. I decided I would pass. 

But when the Ross's was found this past fall, it presented an opportunity for face-melting views as well as a shot at a world and Wisconsin state lifer. The travel was still a dandy at eight hours round trip. My fatigue stood as a barrier. However, I could not resist the exuberance I heard in the voices of my friends Tom and Aaron when they talked about seeing this bird. And then there was this familiar message from Tom, "You going tomorrow? Do it!!"

So I did. It was every bit as magical as I thought it would be. I first viewed it distantly from the Minnesota side where it was reported to be most reliable. My plan was see it first no matter what state it was in, then focus on the tic for Wisconsin. Shortly after I arrived in Minnesota, it was apparent it was seemingly favoring the Wisconsin side. Therefore, I quickly headed over to Prescott, Wisconsin to get better views. However, just as I arrived, I was told the Ross's had flown from the river...No worries as it was quickly refound close to where I parked, up the riverbank behind Geister Ink. 

Within minutes though, it left for Minnesota. I was definitely not going to play the game of driving back and forth across the river trying to view the bird. Instead, I staked out a spot on the Wisconsin side of the river waiting its return. 

Patience rewarded me. After two plus hours of watching the bird from afar, I was treated to breath-taking views as the bird swam toward me. 

Bliss. Pure gold. Dainty, frail, blush, beautiful...

Unfortunately, not unlike my last lifer arctic gull, an Ivory Gull at Canal Park in Duluth, Minnesota, this bird's health was compromised. Even more so than I suspected...

Ivory Gull, Canal Park, Duluth, St. Louis Co, MN 5Jan2016

Subtle behaviors hinted at compromise during the time I spent with the bird (the parking lot landing was a clue). I hoped I was wrong in my concern. But by the time I reached home that evening, word on "the socials" was that those who had followed this bird for multiple days believed its behavior had changed for the worse. By the following morning, reports of the bird appearing dead or near dead had surfaced and a hatched rescue plan spread across the birding community. 

Revive it? I would like to see what gull CPR looks like. 

Shortly after, a firsthand report confirmed the bird expired in transit to wildlife rehabilitation.

I instantly felt moral conflict in rejoicing at seeing this bird. Is it morally just to celebrate around a suffering creature that traveled far from its range to meet its demise?

Guilt and regret overshadowed my jubilance of the prior day...Another one bites the dust...

But the more I have reflected on this experience and the near certain death for most vagrant arctic gulls who travel afar to perish sometimes most obviously (the face-melting ones always do), other times more obscurely, the less ashamed I feel. Though these experiences feel utterly bittersweet, what better way to honor these creatures than with a glorious swan song that celebrates their existence and perhaps even sparks interest in birds and bird conservation in those less woke to the grandeur of Nature? 

I will close with this sentiment posted to the Minnesota Ornithological Union's listserv.

For those thinking about the recently deceased Ross’s Gull, I offer the following excerpt from “A Year on the Wing: Four Seasons in a Life with Birds” by Tim Dee, describing a vagrant in Europe:
The yellow-browed warbler I saw … had made a mistake, and it is probable that no amount of nurture on Fair Isle could truly rescue it. Vagrancy is a death sentence. Almost all of the rarities that arrive on the island (and almost all vagrants anywhere) will have the same fate. They are wonderful treasures from far away that we cannot keep and cannot save. There is very little evidence that vagrant birds reorient themselves and correct their journeys. It seems likely that the yellow-browed warbler, having gone southwest where it should have gone southeast, would continue this aberrant direction and fly on west out over an ocean that has no refuges, no green skirts, for thousands of miles. That would be the end of it. It would soon be homeless. I was watching a lost child at death’s door.
Perhaps somewhat morbid but sadly true. On the flip side, vagrancy is a naturally occurring pattern that sometimes has different results. Think of Cattle Egrets…
Good birding,
Andy Forbes, Dakota Co.

Rest in peace sweet pink fairy. You were a most delightful finale to 2021.