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When a southeaster shoulders the white horses of the Atlantic ashore in late August, the SANDERLINGS come to the beaches in flocks of hundreds. The sea turmoil has brot an ample feast and the birds patter along the sand or plane into the gale's eye on motionless wings. Their cleverness in eluding falling surf is amazing — in all the years of observation I have never seen one caught by a breaker.
In the old days gunners considered them "Big Birds" and they were slaughtered by thousands.
They arrive on the bleak Greenland coast in early June and only extreme hardiness enables survival. Remoteness of breeding areas and their winter home in South America where gunmen are few, have prevented extinction so that the Sanderlings still trip across our beaches, and I hope they always will!
The young are able to fly within two weeks and until then are aggressively guarded by the mother. They merge perfectly into their surroundings and probably emit no scent, as they suffer little from enemies.
Cosmopolitan: breeding in Arctic regions and wintering from about 40 degrees N. latitude to southern South America.