Garret Mountain 5/5

Garret Mountain. In the two-or-so years since this passion (some would say obsession) rooted itself in my soul, I have heard birders talk of this NJ mecca for migrants - especially Warblers.

I took their comments with appreciation and the type of skepticism that one affords a fisherman's tale. How could anything be that good?

Well, yesterday that changed. I believe it was Sandra that mention in a post on Monday that Garret could be hopping yesterday. A good friend, and my birding mentor, had time to go, so it was done. I would get my first experience with the fabled mountain park.

I supposed it would be a productive day, one that would finally let me see some of the precious beauties that have been so slow on the trek north. I was unprepared for what I found.

Garret was not a typical birding outing; it was more like a birding experience, a carnival of birding. It was more than just a migrant playground, although the 46 species of mostly migrants was not anything to shirk at. It was the incredible onslaught of birders that descended upon the peak, all with eyes peeled for the tiny colored dots in the treetops, or the leaf brown movement on the canopy floor. It was how when you passed a group of birders you shared what and where you had seen something special, and they shared their discoveries with you.

It was getting there early and running into Steve, just another birder whom I hadn't met yet, at the stream behind the parking lot and working together to start the morning with Blue-throated green, Northern Parula, Magnolia, Chestnut-sided; as well as Swainson's Thrush and a Veery.

It was running into the legend, Pete and his group of birders, by a Vireo convention that included Warbling, Blue-headed, and Red-eyed and having them share the Hooded's location. And then running into them again by the Cape May tree and having them share that there was a Black-throated Green Warbler in the tree behind us!

It was seeing the precious Hooded Warbler and having it take a back seat to my best look yet of a fearless ovenbird that just walked up to us.

It was running into Dan at Wilson's Ave and finding the Cap May, as well as a couple of Blackpoll and Nashville.

But most of all, it was an affirmation that this is an astonishingly fulfilling passion, shared by an equally amazing group of naturalists and outdoorsman who are committed to enjoying some of this planet's most magnificent creatures.

And yet, to be honest, when I got home and learned that there was a Kentucky in the tiered parking lot, where I started and ended my day - I was momentarily jealous that I had missed it... I can't be alone in that sentiment.

Good birding.