Adjacent to the Princeton University campus, the Charles H. Rogers Wildlife Refuge is a wooded area with a marsh suitable for a leisurely birding walk on a late summer Sunday. I stopped there this morning, circling the marsh on the blue trail and hoping to spot a few warblers.
Striking out on the warblers, I switched to the red trail and had an easy if bird-lacking walk to where the trail follows Stony Brook. There’s a point at which the trail turns away from the brook and loops back through the woods. That’s where my outing went south, metaphorically speaking.
Ahead of me lay a big puddle, and I couldn’t spot a way around it. Nor could I find a way across it out without sinking at least one of my hiking boots into the water. How bad could it be?
I got across with submerging only my right foot, and I figured I’d be OK from there. Then more puddles appeared. And more puddles, some completely covering the trail with no room along the sides to maneuver. I plunged ahead, both feet getting wet.
A little farther, things got worse. Not only was the ground soaked, but the trail was covered with knee-high plants. My legs were bare between the tops of my socks and the hem of my short pants, and I had to bushwack my way along.
I finally made it to a clearing near the trailhead, and I was wet from the top of my knees to the soles of my boots, which were several shades darker than their regular sandy color.
For my epic slog, did I get that one photo that made the exertion worth it? Nope. I saw just one bird, which flew across the brook too quickly for me to make an identification.
My squishy socks were uncomfortable, but as I got back to the gravel path I broke into a smile. I had just endured a relatively small bit of hardship but had made it through without scars, ticks or falls.
If this was a bad day birding, it beats good days at a lot of other activities.
On the short walk back to the car, I spotted two birding friends on the observation deck by the parking lot. We watched dozens of red-winged blackbirds and fish crows fly by and even heard a raven croaking its call. That lifted my spirits further.
I managed only a far distant shot of what turned out to be a song sparrow on a bird box across the marsh and the photo topping this post of a red-bellied woodpecker on a tree at the parking lot.
I’ll get back to the Rogers refuge soon, but I’ll just stay off the red trail until it dries out. 🦅