The mist rose off the river, skeins of it moved by aberrant air currents sliding just above the surface of the water. The early morning sun seemed to make it glow, giving the place an ethereal light.

We stood on a high bank of the Stillwater River looking at this lovely scene. Verdant wetland vegetation lined the margins of the river, giving way to thick shrubs and tall trees, adding golden greens and warm browns to the palette. Dark, rich mud lined a spit of land in the middle of the river.

A small bird moved along this muddy border. It seemed to teeter on its long legs, its tail bobbing up and down, resembling a child’s toy. It systemically probed the soft earth with its bill, hunting and catching food. It was a spotted sandpiper.

This shore bird is a pretty common breeder throughout North America, utilizing a wide variety of wetland habitats and food sources. It has a characteristic shallow fluttering flight low over the water, and a distinctive vocalization: “peet weet, peet weet.” In breeding plumage, adults have large, dark spots on their white necks, chests and bellies, and a dull brown upper body. They have a white line above their eyes, yellow legs, and a two-toned beak. Non-breeding plumage is less distinct: No spots and a dark, shaded appearance to its neck. However, there is a good field identification. that can be made from this. The neck pattern is “a dusky smudge enclosing a white wedge near the shoulder,” as the Peterson field guide describes it.

Spotted sandpipers are among an unusual group of birds in that it is the female that is larger, arrives first on breeding territory in the spring, defends it, and chooses a mate. They can be polyandrous, meaning females may mate with more than one male. Once she lays a clutch of eggs, she will leave to find another mate while the male incubates and raises the young.

We watched the bird until it was out of site, then headed down the road to a narrow path that led directly to the river’s edge. Here, a gallery of trees arched over a narrow channel of water between the bank and a large, forested spit of land, giving the area a mysterious, hallowed atmosphere. Animal tracks were everywhere in the mud, and lily pads floated on the surface of the quiet water. For a while, nothing was to be seen, but, sure enough, again came another little bird foraging in the mud along the channel.

I was quick to assume it was another spotted sandpiper, but my birding companion, Paul, reminded me that the field marks on this bird were different. Its back was a richer brown, with white speckles; its legs were darker; it did not have the neck/shoulder pattern mentioned above on the spotted sandpiper; and there were black, horizontal bars on its tail, just visible even with the wings closed and folded over its back. This was a solitary sandpiper.

Solitary sandpipers breed in the boreal forests of Canada and Alaska, so we don’t see them unless they’re on migration. Unlike spotted sandpipers, there is no sex-role reversal and they are monogamous. They are called “solitary” because they do not gather in huge flocks during migration as do other shore birds, but this is also true of the spotted sandpiper.

We watched the bird as it foraged. It would pause long enough to quiver its foot in the mud before darting forward to snatch up its stirred-up and exposed prey – an easy and efficient hunting method.

All too soon, it was time to head in to work; but it was a great way to start the day.

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