Taking the annual feathery count from Nome to South America
The sun had just risen over the northeastern tip of Long Island, and an icy wind was blowing in from Gardiners Bay. Except for screeching herring gulls and other hungry birds, the only sign of life on this blustery (20° F.) winter morning was a small column of people bundled against the cold and quietly stalking across a frozen marsh. "Hey, there's a blackback!" exclaimed their leader. "And look over there, some goldeneyes." Fighting through thick reeds and tall grass, the bird watchers soon...
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