In any endeavor a little outside influence provides just the right amount of encouragement and incentive to just get going. When it comes to birdwatching, that incentive for me comes in the form of my two birding friends, Ed Grew and Paul Markson.

Many times, Ed gets the ball rolling by reporting his sightings to Paul and me. These come complete with detailed instructions on where he last saw the bird(s), as well as the type of conditions present. Then, either Paul or I will take the initiative and suggest a time to go birding, most often in the early morning before work.

True to form, last week Ed told us of seeing three snipe in the marsh near Witter Farm in Orono. Snipe are medium-sized shorebirds with long, slender bills that breed throughout the northern tier of the United States, almost all of Canada, and Alaska. Although they are called “shorebirds,” they actually nest far from coastlines, preferring bogs, swamps, and marshy areas, including wet margins of inland bodies of water. They will winter locally, if conditions are right; they forage in water and wet soil for mollusks, crustaceans, larval insects, and earthworms, so the climate needs to just be warm enough to prevent freezing. Otherwise, they migrate to Central or South America, and the southern United States, in the fall.

Snipe are pretty secretive, except when it comes to mating and territorial displays. The males are well known for their flight displays, during which they fly high into the air and begin a series of deep dives. Special muscles spread their tail feathers, and the wind rushing through these feathers creates the characteristic winnowing sound, also described as a low, throbbing whistle. It is a bit eerie, yet strangely stirring, when heard at dusk over a secluded marsh or wetland.

The snipe we were watching were engaging in the more mundane activities of everyday survival: foraging, preening, and sleeping. Through the screen of marsh vegetation, we could discern their striking and beautiful plumage: brown, black, gray, and buff colors formed barred and spotted patterns on their upper bodies, which were interspersed with light stripes running down the length of their backs. Their crowns were striped with black and tan lines. The early morning sun lit them in a soft, warm light, making their plumage appear rich and glowing.

We had no idea if the birds we were seeing were migrants from a more distant locale, or locals hanging together after the breeding season. But we saw another bird there we were sure was a migrant: a least sandpiper.

This small shorebird breeds in the subarctic tundra and far northern boreal forests of North America, and winters in the southern tip of the United States, Central America and South America. You may be thinking it’s a bit early for fall migration, but shorebirds actually start migrating south as early as July. Now is the time to see many far northern species on migration.

This little shorebird scuttled about in quick, perky movements, busily poking its short bill along or just below the surface of the mud for its prey. It completely ignored another snipe nearby, which was standing amidst tall marsh grasses with its bill tucked into its back feathers, napping.

Thanks to my friends, I got out there to see this tranquil scene and these beautiful birds, on this lovely late summer morning.

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