My son Andrew and I moved quickly along the beach to the fishing spot several hundred yards away. He lugged the heavy bag with a cooler, fishing supplies, and snacks. I carried the rods and chairs.

We passed dozens of shorebirds on the way to our spot at the mouth of a river that feeds into Long Island Sound. I noted mostly piping plovers, but there were also ruddy turnstones and a few American oystercatchers.

Normally, I would drop everything and obsess over trying to get photos of the birds, but we had this day planned for a while, and I didn’t want my hobby to take over the father-son time. Maybe I’ll stop for a few photos on the way back, I thought.

As we walked farther along the beach, least terns became the dominant bird species. There is a sizable colony of the small terns with yellow bills that nest there. Least terns nest a little later than the shorebirds that raise young there.

My guess is that the piping plovers I saw were a mix of adult birds that nest there, along with their first-year birds, as well as some early fall migrants that nested farther north. Piping plovers breed as far north as Newfoundland.

It seems funny to refer to fall migration in July, but many shorebirds start their southward journey by the middle of summer. Meanwhile, American goldfinches are just getting around to nesting.

The ruddy turnstones were almost certainly migrants, unless they were nonbreeding birds and never made it all the way north. They breed in the Arctic and, unlike a lot of shorebirds that stick mainly to coastal areas during migration, can be fairly widespread on their migratory journeys.

I watched one turnstone working the water’s edge looking for food. Even from casual observation, it’s easy to see where they got their name.

Ruddy, of course, comes from the rusty-red color on their backs and wings in breeding plumage. Turnstone comes from their foraging method of using their bills to flip over rocks to search for morsels. The turnstone I watched made it look so easy and barely broke its momentum as it turned over rocks while walking along the shoreline.

I’ve always liked ruddy turnstones. They are more prominently patterned and slightly larger than many shorebirds and therefore easier to identify. Many shorebirds get lumped into the category of “peeps,” which is another way of saying “I know it’s a shorebird, but I’m not sure which one.” Birds such as least sandpiper, western sandpiper, and semipalmated sandpiper fit into that category. It often takes an expert to identify exactly which one is being seen. Sanderlings are slightly different but also often lumped in as peeps.

Ruddy turnstones, however, are easy to separate from the rest of the shorebirds, particularly in breeding plumage. Turnstones have black and white heads, chests and bellies, rusty-red backs, black bills and bright orange legs.

Sure enough, I snapped a few photos on the long walk back to the parking lot. I didn’t linger and obsess over the shots. In fact, I didn’t even drop the rods and chairs but rather switched them to my left hand and used the camera with my right. It proved to be difficult to maneuver a camera with a long, heavy lens and hold it still with one hand. Thank goodness for autofocus, which made the photographs at least serviceable.

The birds made the long walk over rocks and sand go quickly. It’s always fun to see shorebirds now and then, as coastal areas are not a habitat I visit frequently.

As for the fishing, let’s just say the weight of our catch did not slow us down.