I Am Considering
Written on 4/18/2026
Sometimes seeing a bird can be such a serendipitous moment. Yesterday I was reading about Greater White-fronted Geese in the article “Consider the Goose” by fellow Substacker James Freitas. In this piece, he linked to something that I wrote in 2024 after I saw this species once in Salt Lake City, then another time, a few weeks later, in Carbon County. I am always excited to see them. The Carbon County bird was the last I had run into. They are a semi-common winter rarity (trust me, that makes sense) here in Utah, but by mid-April, they are typically on their way north towards their arctic breeding grounds. When considering the goose, I figured it would be 8-10 months before I got the chance to see another, which would mean I would go at least three years in between sightings.
Today I birded Desert Lake and Huntington Reservoir, both in Emery County, about 30 minutes south of me. The species I had in mind this morning was Long-billed Curlew, since I haven’t found them in either Carbon or Emery Counties. Spring migration was in full swing today. There were many shorebirds that had stopped on their way through: American Avocets, Black-necked Stilts, White Faced Ibis, Greater and Lesser Yellowlegs, Long-billed Dowitchers, and Marbled Godwits. Each location had hundreds of Franklin’s Gulls, many of them with blushing light pink breasts. Common Loons were snorkeling around Huntington Reservoir. Snowy Egrets had arrived at both spots, their lacy plumes flowing in the light breeze. No luck on the curlews.
There is a day of birding every spring, where I go out, and see dozens of species that are new for the year, birds that I haven’t seen since at least the previous fall, and they all seemingly materialized overnight. Today was one of those days.
After a great day of spring birding, I came home and walked my younger dog. When we got back, I cooked shrimp and grits for dinner, and flipped on the Braves Vs. Phillies game that I picked up with my rabbit ear antenna. I was scrolling through my email while I ate, and listening to the ballgame in the background. I rarely look at these, but for whatever reason, I opened today’s Utah rare bird alert email. Right at the top of the list, I saw a report of a Greater White-fronted Goose at Huntington Reservoir. A large group of birders from the other side of the Wasatch Mountains came this way on a field trip, and found the goose at 10:00 this morning. At this time of year, there usually aren’t rare geese mixed in with flocks of Canadas, and I remember glancing past them all. I was looking for curlews, and must have overlooked many of the birds that weren’t wading or standing around on long legs. I should always take time with all the birds that are present, rare or common.
I knew I had to make the 30 minute drive back to Huntington Reservoir. A Greater White-fronted Goose would be a year bird, and an Emery County lifer (173). I washed my dinner dishes, put my jeans back on, and reloaded my optics and camera in the car. The video of the night’s Dodger game was blacked out on my MLB app, so this gave me the opportunity to listen on the radio. It was 6:30 PM, and I wanted to get back by dark, so I sped the entire way down.
When I got there, I parked on the eastern shore of the lake. There is no road on the opposite side, so I had to look right into the sun that was low in the western sky. The glare coming off the water was eye piercing. When I looked through my scope, things weren’t much better. I saw the outline of some geese on the far shore, and one of them had orange legs that were glowing an almost neon hue with the sun right behind the bird. I could make out a dark chest and white under tail, and a white ~ along the flanks. Although I couldn’t see the orange bill or the white front, I had enough field marks to know that this was my bird. It was the worst look I have ever had at a Greater White-fronted Goose. I scoped other birds on the lake, and saw some Red-breasted Mergansers that I had also missed earlier. I watched Barn Swallows fly overhead, chattering as they went. When I swung the scope back to the goose, the sun had moved enough that I was able to make out the white front and orange bill. I watched until the whole flock was scared off by some girls that were walking around the reservoir. The geese flew into a farm field behind a stand of tall cottonwoods.
Everything lined up just right today. James got me thinking about this species yesterday, and I clicked into the rare bird email; normally those eBird emails go straight to my trash folder. I wrote about this species right after seeing a couple in 2024, James linked to my article, I read his article, then I went out and saw my first Greater-white Fronted Goose since I wrote that piece. Over my 20 years of birding as an adult, a lot of sightings have come about through sheer coincidence and luck. This was definitely one of those moments. Today also served as a good reminder to take my time, and always look through all the birds present, no matter how common I think they will be. If I would have done that earlier in the afternoon, it would have saved me a trip this evening.
Good for you!!!