...When all through Cape May,
Not a birder was stirring, not even Bob Fogg.
The binoculars were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that a murrelet would soon be there.
The photographers were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Ivory Gulls danced through their heads.
And the kinglets in the pines, and the scaup on the bay,
Had all gone to sleep until dawn the next day.
Suddenly on the meadow there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the window where there flew an odd shape,
A moonlit bird with a cinnamon nape.
Across a snowy marsh a Short-ear did fly,
With hardly a flap, and many a glide.
And I heard him bark, 'ere he flew out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
With apologies to Clement Moore, we wish you and yours a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Enjoy.