The long rays of late afternoon sunlight slanted across the fields, gilding the edges of wetland shrubs and reeds in gold. A light breeze kissed the meadow grasses, making them sway gently.

I had always enjoyed walking the path through this particular area, because it affords wide-open views of meadow, wetland, and forest edge – and good opportunities for spotting a variety of birds.

And I did have some good sightings. Sparrows were everywhere; they may have been migrating through from somewhere else, or perhaps they were residents congregating prior to migration. I was able to definitively identify two of the three or four different species that seemed to be present: song sparrow and a white-throated sparrow. There was a third that I thought was an American tree sparrow; however, this seemed to be the wrong time of year, as they are most often seen during winter, especially on Christmas Bird Counts. After consulting my bird identification guides, I realized how far off the mark I was – and how rusty I was at noting field marks.

Upon further thought, I remembered noticing the bird had some reddish-tan shading on its “flanks,” and that its wings had distinctive, deep chestnut coloring. What had fooled me was the dark spot in the middle of its mostly un-streaked chest, which is a tell-tale mark of the American tree sparrow. However, nothing else fit, so the bird had to be a swamp sparrow – I think.

These blunders made me realize that if I ever wanted to become better at identification, I needed to take my birding more seriously. I had neglected to write my observations down in detail – a cardinal sin among serious birders and those with a more scientific bent. There are many varieties of field notebooks available – but the garden-variety pocket-sized notepad can do in a pinch. I had neglected to take even this small piece of equipment with me whenever I went birding.

Having said that, there is nothing wrong with just enjoying the birds for what they are – masterpieces of air, sight, and sound. But if I wanted to train my eye to pick up fine detail, I needed to get down to it.

One other bird really had me puzzling. On two separate occasions, I noticed a sparrow-like bird fly up from the thick grass and perch on an exposed mound of dirt and rocks in the middle of the field. This was completely unlike the behavior of the sparrows I had identified. The song, swamp, and white-throated sparrows had at first thwarted any good views by effectively skulking through the wetland shrubs and tall meadow grasses. At no point did they remain still in an exposed location.

This mystery bird sat exposed for a minute or more on top of the soil mound until I approached; it then swooped high into the air and flew in undulating flight toward a stand of birch trees. Now this, I thought, cannot be a sparrow, although its markings resembled those of some of the lightly streaked sparrows. Its color also seemed lighter overall.

I wondered if it could have been a pipit, but, consulting the field guide later at home, I couldn’t decide if its bill had been slender enough. And did it bob its tail? Seems that I would have noticed such conspicuous behavior; but suddenly I couldn’t recall.

Now where is that field notebook?

NEWS bird columnist Chris Corio can be reached at bdnsports@bangordailynews.net