It was late September in 2020, I was a month away from retiring, trying to be professional and finish up several projects before riding off into the sunset.
On the 24th a report of Say’s Phoebe in central Maine came through in my e-mail. A common bird in the west, Ingrid and I had seen them in California, Texas and Arizona but seeing one in Maine would be shocking.
But there was the “work” thing and I couldn’t justify chasing the Phoebe, what with all of the work on my plate.
Early the next morning I raced across the state hoping to find the bird . . . but it was gone . . . a one day wonder.
Yesterday another Say’s Phoebe showed up, this time at a farm in Belfast . . . an hour and a half north. This time I dropped everything and got him. Better late than never.