I've had a fondness for Least Terns for as long as I can remember; before I knew there name if you really want to know.  As a very young child exploring the beaches near my home on Wrightsville Beach, I encountered them.  On Masonboro Island, the island south of Wrightsville, they nestled on the north end before the construction of the rock terminal groin.  I used to fish there and explore.  During the summer, I would encounter the birds nesting on the beach.  It was easy to tell when you were near the nesting area because you would get attacked by the birds.  The Least Terns never hit me, but released their bowls in my direction on several occasions. It was hard for me to believe that birds nested on the sand, built little to no nests, and laid their eggs on the sand.  

Many years later, I would come to know Least Terns. They were the smallest of the terns.  The beach was there place during the summer.  Those periods when they seemed to attack us were simply their way of defending their nesting site. An occasional bird poop on my shirt was enough to get me out of the area. When I studied them on the Outer Banks I had to check nests every could have days.  To do so, I had to be in their colony for a brief period.  They didn't like it and a shirt that I wore, descriptively known as my shit shirt, told the story.  It served me well.

I've seen Least Terns from Maine to The Bahamas.  Each time it takes me back to those days when I explored Masonboro Island as a kid.