Martindale Maintains its Magic

Peregrinations needn't always be far-flung to please and inspire. Once upon a time one of my favourite destinations was Martindale Flats, just a 20-minute drive from our James Bay shack. No other place has given me so many memorable birding moments. The Globe and Mail's late, great Peter Whelan once described it, fairly, as the best Christmas bird count zone in all Canada. And for many years I was lucky enough to be in charge of it for the Victoria CBC. I took the job seriously and managed more than once to have my crew find a hundred species in the zone. Eventually I decided someone else should have a turn and I let Martindale go. Scafe Hill became my new CBC hangout and it has provided its own pleasures for the past fifteen years, with far less pressure.

Yesterday Jan and I returned to Martindale to do a gumboot walkabout just like the ones I used to take all the time. Who knows how long it had been. Ten years? Twelve? I have no idea. I had low expectations when we arrived; it didn't take long for the valley to exceed them. Bird numbers were low: with Victoria enjoying sub-zero temperatures these past few days, there was little open water and the hordes of ducks and geese normally present were missing. But rewards awaited. A flurry of song sparrows foraged in tall grass. Water pipits seldom cross our paths nowadays but Martindale is to pipits' liking; we soon came upon a group of forty.

The Saanich Peninsula is the only place in the New World to see sky larks and their numbers are in decline. Martindale has been a stronghold; we were happy to see it is still. A group of three dozen flushed at our approach; they chirruped a warning to one another and one even offered a snippet of its glorious song. A merlin, our second-smallest falcon, bulleted past us, then his bruiser cousin, a peregrine. A couple of marsh wrens strutted their stuff; a gang of 52 white-fronted geese were a highlight too.

We paused to offer new year's greetings to the current porcine quartet always available for a visit along the Galloping Goose Trail. We watched the latest generation of lambs demanding lunch from their mamas. Wandering back to the car we met stalwart birder pal Mike McGrenere, on his bicycle of course.

Martindale is altered from fifteen years ago. Ownership of some parcels has changed hands and some of the new proprietors are less welcoming of harmless birders than their predecessors. Some sections previously favoured by short-eared owls have been given over to a tree nursery so short-ears will not appear there again. Happily, however, I was pleased to discover that Martindale still has much of its old magic. I won't allow another decade to pass before we go there again.