10/23/25 - Chestnut-collared Longspur

     Late Tuesday I saw reports that a chestnut-collared longspur was discovered in Cape May, NJ.  My only familiarity with this species is that it is a Midwest prairie song bird, thus rare for New Jersey.  I also know that there are four different longspurs in the United States and only one, the Lapland longspur, is occasionally seen in New Jersey.  When accepted early next year by the NJ Bird Records Committee, it will only be the fourth record for the state.  

I have not been chasing birds for a while.  I do kind of regret not going to Forsythe NWR in Atlantic county earlier this year to see the lark bunting that showed up there.  That bird fit my recently self-imposed protocol for chasing a bird.  I decided that it must be a life bird and one I most likely will not be looking for in its normal range anytime in my future plans.  It would have to be more of a once in a lifetime bird, as opposed to a new life bird.  This longspur fit my criteria, but I was not going to travel the near 90 minutes to Cape May County late in the afternoon.  Wednesday morning I wasn’t thinking about the bird until it popped up in my head late morning.  I checked the GroupMe alerts on my phone and, sure enough it was still around.  It was a nice day out, but the local birding has been rather ho-hum since I returned from Arizona.  After a brief inner debate with myself, I said, “Screw it,” and headed down to Villas in Cape May County.

Lapland longspur at Island Beach State Park, December 2024.  © S. Weiss

When I got to the general location, I applied my friend Larry’s fourth Law of Birding which states, “Don’t look for the bird, look for the birders.”  I saw a group of birders standing along a beach dune crossing a block from where I entered the beach.  I walked over and blended in with the group, but there was no one I knew.  Listening to conversations I learned that the bird had not seen in nearly an hour, and at that time had dropped down into the tall dune grass in front of us.  No one was walking through the dune grass either because of birding etiquette no-nos or local laws in NJ prohibiting walking in/over unpathed dunes.  It was now just a waiting game.  Long story short for Wednesday is that after about two hours the bird flushed from the grass and flew off from a spot I was at just minutes earlier and was returning.  The ride home sucked.

Thursday morning I had no intention of going back.  That was until a friend texted me that she was heading down to try for the bird and was looking for company.  The bird had actually returned to the same area it was at the past two days.  I thought she would have better luck so I took the ride.  The bird had been seen foraging on the beach along the edges of the dune grass.  When we arrived, and adhering to the fourth Law of Birding, we headed to the group gathered a bit up the beach.  As we got closer we noticed that bins and cameras were up, indicating they were on the bird.  We picked up our walking pace until we reach them.  The bird, of course, was then currently out of sight but they put us on the spot where it had just ducked into cover.  This waiting game didn’t take long because not a minute later a local, non-birding couple, not paying attention to us standing near, walked within inches of the spot and the bird flushed up and flew off.  Damnit!  Had we been just two minutes earlier, life would’ve been so much nicer.

My friend and I walked the beach towards where she saw the bird fly hoping to relocate it.  Along the way we mildly discussed whether to count the bird based on that brief sighting.  I stated that I would, citing that the others had positively seen it and we were watching the very spot it was when it flushed.  It was not the view I hoped for, but I did nonetheless see and hear it.  She had reservations that it wasn’t a solid look.  My only advice was to follow her conscience.  After a few blocks with no luck, we headed back to the group.

Wouldn’t you know, according to those that stayed put, the bird had circled back and returned to the same area.  This had become its modus operandi.  Every time it looks as if it had flown off to new territory, it winds up returning to virtually the same spot it had been since it was first found.  A couple of times during the rest of our time there we saw it flush up from the dune grass and drop back down in about a one to two block area.  This particular bird was a non-breeding adult/immature so it was pretty much a brown sparrow-looking bird.  Despite that, we became competent at picking it out in flight despite the tree swallows, yellow-rumped warblers, house sparrows and finches also darting around the area.

Finally, after exceeding the amount of time we originally planned to stay there, we got our best break.  The bird popped out of the dune grass and flew directly towards the group making chipping calls and did a few circles overhead before plopping back down in the tall grass.  I got some high-in-the-sky photos that, though not great, were identifiable.  Most of the group agreed that was probably the best interaction we would experience and several of us departed.  There was no more questioning whether to list the bird or not.  The ride home was much more satisfying than the previous day.

Chestnut-collared longspur.  © S. Weiss

The broad, white outer tail feathers was one of our key field marks for the bird in flight.

Along with almost annual sightings of Lapland longspur and three accepted records of Smith’s longspur, three of the four North American longspurs are on the state’s list.  If and when a wayward thick-billed (formerly McCown’s) longspur stumbles upon New Jersey grounds, I will make the effort to go look for it.