Walking east along the Virginia Street extension I saw at least two, possibly three birds that I thought at first were Long-billed Curlews. A closer look showed, no, they were Whimbrels. The Whimbrel has a long beak, but not as long as the Curlew, and the Whimbrel has telltale dark stripes on the top of its head. These birds — they flew around a bit so that I could not count them exactly — probed the mud among the rocks at low tide. They ignored the flat mud exposed closer to the outfall of Schoolhouse Creek, where a dozen or more smaller birds — Marbled Godwits, Yellowlegs, little peeps of various kinds, busily stitched the mud faster than sewing machines.