The song is ended, but the melody lingers on.
~Irving Berlin
After leading my last group over a week ago, we decided to make one more trip to Pungo last Friday (it appears letting go truly is hard to do!). Our friend, Meghan, was with us and we decided to do a day trip for one last sunset show. And we are so glad we did. It was as if the birds were gathering to say goodbye. We got there about noon and it was a crazy warm day for being early February with temperatures soaring into the 70’s by mid-afternoon. Turtles were out basking in along every canal bank and Southern Leopard Frogs were calling in the wet meadows. Some swans were feeding in the fields out front but it was a swirling black cloud of birds further down the road that caught our eyes – Red-winged Blackbirds! February is the time the blackbirds form the largest flocks, perhaps in preparation for their migration to breeding grounds up north (some do stay in our area to breed but many move north).
We spent several minutes mesmerized by the swooshing and back and forth movements of the flock, at times startled into the air by a passing Northern Harrier. The sights and sounds of these birds is one of Melissa’s favorite things about Pungo in winter.
Our friend, Meghan, wanted to see a river otter, so we started working on that goal after leaving the blackbirds. River Otters are fairly common here and frequent the roadside canals throughout much of the refuge. But they can be difficult to find on any given day. We parked and waked along a section of road closed to vehicles but passable on foot, hoping to see either a resident screech owl or an otter. No luck on the owl, so I offered to walk back to the car and drive around to the other end of that road and pick them up while they completed the walk. I got almost to the car and looked back and saw them squatting down by the canal far away. I watched and they didn’t move so I figured they had found an otter.
When I got around to the pick up spot, they had not turned the corner, so I started walking to meet them and maybe get to see an otter myself. Sure enough, as I approached, an otter snorted at me and kerplunked as it dove. Melissa signaled there were four otters. They were between us and obviously wanted to go past me. I walked toward Melissa and that caused the one visible otter to go back in her direction and eventually gather with the others up under a large wax myrtle overhanging the canal bank.
The otters eventually came out, swam down the canal in their original direction and crossed under the road through the culvert.
As we walked back to the car, one otter stayed ahead of us in the canal for a time, occasionally poking its head up and giving us a snort.
Check otters off the list of tasks for the day. Now on to the front fields in hopes of seeing the real show of the day, the Snow Geese coming into the fields to feed. When we got there, there were a couple of hundred Tundra Swans feeding and a small flock of Snow Geese already there. It wasn’t long until a group of a couple of thousand Snow Geese came in and started circling and landing. We positioned our vehicle close to where the swans and Snow Geese were landing, but the clear skies made lighting less than ideal for photos of the birds. I kept wondering, “Where is the rest of the flock?”. In another 15 minutes, I had my answer as I called out, “Here they come!”.
Birds filled the sky for the next 10 minutes, swirling in layers, crisscrossing the air space above the fields. Gradually, they began to settle in a flurry of wings and nasal squawks that were almost deafening. Folks nearby registered the noise level on an app on their phone and it was in the high 80’s. That is very loud and is comparable to traffic on a busy city street or a hair dryer. But, a much more pleasing sound and sight as thousands of birds swarmed above our heads and landed on the ground in front of us.
Soon, it became thousands of dark specks in the air circling above thousands of white birds on the ground. The specks were flying in all directions, some in a huge swath of birds on the horizon, some in small patches of birds, landing gear down, searching for an open spot.
The sunset created an orange hue across the horizon, highlighting the birds close to the source with tints of gold while darkening those further away into magical sky-dancing silhouettes.
At times, the birds were all around us, a churning sky full of wings and sound.
–Snow Geese flying overhead against the backdrop of the moon
The enormity of the flock was hard to grasp as time and again they would take off and fly in waves, this way and that, against the orange sky. Near the end, the closest line of birds on the ground was probably only 30 feet from us, voraciously gobbling the corn. You could hear a deep mechanical-sounding background noise reminiscent of a machine like a huge combine as the flock made its way though the corn stubble.
–The final spectacle of an incredible bird sunset at Pungo.
At the end, we were all overwhelmed by what we had just witnessed. An amazing finish to a special day and to decades of learning to love a place. I’ve been going to the Pungo Unit for over 40 years (back when it was called Pungo National Wildlife Refuge). I’ve had the privilege of sharing days in the field here with thousands of others. We have walked quietly in the woods along “Bear Road” (back when that was allowed), watching swans fly in overhead while a trio of Black Bears strolled across a field flushing hundreds of Snow Geese as they went. We have helped biologists band swans for research with a once in a lifetime opportunity to hold one of these magnificent creatures in your arms until the biologists gathered the data and gave it back to you to release at the water’s edge. We have walked with the bears, watching them go about their activities and feeling the connection with animals that resemble us in so many ways. People have been amazed by the beauty and vastness of the sunrises and sunsets in this land of huge skies. And I have spent time alone (and with just Melissa) taking it all in. So many memorable highlights…The thrill of catching glimpses of the endangered Red Wolves that call this landscape home. Seeing the occasional ghost of the woods, the Bobcat, as they move in perfect harmony with the land. We watched otters play and catch fish, raptors search for and catch their prey, and a rattlesnake that surprisingly was active in January for a few years at the base of the same hollow cypress tree. And so much more, so many species, such beauty, such quiet. In my mind, there is nowhere in the East like it, so much so, that I once dubbed this place the Yellowstone of the East after my other favorite haven for wildlife.
But, in winter, it has always been the birds that brought me back. The magnificent spectacle and abundance of feathered beings. The elegance of the swans, graceful with their soothing calls and seemingly calm manner (of course, watching them you soon realize they can squabble with the best of them). And the gregarious Snow Geese that come and go wth such energy and sound, dominating the sky and claiming it as their own. The combination is spell-binding and gives all who witness it a better understanding of the true meaning of the word awe. This will be my memory of this place, a place of awe and wonder and birds and bears. Thank you, Pungo, for feeding my soul for so many years.
Roads End Naturalist 
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