Birding at Blackie Spit

We are gradually working our way around Mud Bay/Boundary Bay, walking a different stretch each week. A week ago, our choice was the inner part of Blackie Spit, on the tip of Crescent Beach.

Maps from Google and Park sign.

Blackie Spit is reported to be one of the best bird-watching sites in Canada, with up to 200 species sighted in one year. Our count, so far, runs far below that; we've been here at the wrong times, probably.

Our first glimpse, this vist: an overview of the tidal flats of Mud Bay. The white dots down there on the sandbar are seagulls.


From under the railway tracks, we watched Canada geese stream by. This is the tail end of the flock; there must have been over one hundred in all.

Laurie liked these grasses, standing deep or lying every which way. The tide comes in right up to their roots and the wind blows erratically along this shore. The grass just flops wherever it ended up when the wind stopped, I guess.

Down on the spit proper, sparrows sang in the trees and swallows dipped and soared overhead.

It's good country for swallows; plenty of standing water to breed mosquitos and noseeums, a wonderful diversity of vegetation, home to all sorts of bugs. The dragonflies like it, too. Last year, I saw several blood-red dragonflies; I was on the lookout for them this time, but was disappointed. Maybe next visit.

There are a number of swallow nest boxes on pilings out in the delta, where they are safe from predators. Well used, it seems.


Left over traps, now catching barnacles.

Pickleweed, and a crab shell. (See my previous post on Salicornia pacifica, with a recipe.)

Sandpipers. I tried to get close, walking slowly and gently, but this was the best I could do. One step more, and they flew away.


And I watched, but didn't photograph, a grey heron, flapping lazily down an avenue of barnacled pilings.

You can just barely see four of the sandpipers flying, above the last pilings.

A park guardian. (Look at it from a distance; can you see the face?)

We had done the circuit of the permitted area. Ahead of Laurie, in this next photo, is the off-limits section. I could hear the twitterings, down there in the grasses, but couldn't identify any of the vocalists.

Along the way, I picked up assorted shed feathers; crow, eagle, and something small and dark, not a sandpiper. They went in my feather collection at home; later, I will share them with my granddaughter, maybe help her make a headdress.

A dead tree. Just because I liked it.

All in all, a quiet afternoon walk, with bird song.