Dear Birders,

Before you complain about the oil spill why don't you consider the following:

1. You fly/drive halfway across the country to see an Ivory Gull, Ross's Gull, Bare-throated Tiger-heron, or _________ (fill in the blank).

2. You drive 4 hours across the state to see vagrants that show up every so often which are much more common elsewhere in the country (sometimes just as far of a drive or less) just so you can have them on your state/life list (and sometimes you do this more than once just so you can have better photos).

3. You fly all over the world to go on guided tours when you frequently can't even identify all the breeding birds in your own state/backyard.

4. You drive to parks/birding hotspots hours away on a regular basis rather than birding in your own town, neighborhood park, etc. which may have just as many good birds.

In other words, you use oil, depend on it, and are in part responsible for our need to drill. So before you point the finger, why don't you consider how to make yourself less oil dependent and how to make the world a better place.

I'm not saying the oil spill isn't a bad thing. Just that we should all consider our lifestyle and how it impacts the world on a broader scale.

If the lifestyle you want to have includes the 4 aforementioned things, that's fine, I won't condemn you for it but DO NOT complain about Sea Level Rise, Climate Change, Environmental Disasters, etc.

Life List - 450; What does it mean?

Not that long ago I saw my 450th lower 48 life bird in the form of a Golden-winged Warbler. He was cute, flashy, and very cooperative. 450 seems like a pretty big mark... and 500 really isn't too far away given not-to-distant traveling plans to Texas. However, I've recently been reflecting a lot about listing and what it all means.

(GWWA - Lower 48 450th lifer)

Back in January of 2006 I hated birders and birds. Honestly, I really did. I know many of you have a hard time believing that but there are MANY people who can testify to this being reality. Thing is, I didn't know much and it frustrated me to be around people who had seen HUNDREDS of birds and the only birds I had seen were American Robin, Bald Eagle, Blue Jay, and American Goldfinch. Twitching seemed absolutely insane to me and completely un-environmentally friendly. I didn't understand the mentality that was behind it all. Who cared about the LeConte's Thrasher? Why was it worth getting cactus spines in my foot? It was just a bird. Why would we drive 12 hours out of our way (each way) to see Whooping Cranes in Texas? Wouldn't the drive be a huge waste? Not to mention, if everyone did this regularly wouldn't the habitat disappear sooner with SLR and climate change?

In time, I got past the frustration and began to identify birds like Chickadees, Kestrels, and Red-tailed Hawks. Birding became fun and a way to feel connected to the world around me. It was a way to feel a sense of place and was one more piece of the puzzle that is the world around us. I saw Baltimore Orioles, Rose-breasted Grosbeaks, and Warblers! Birding was fun and I started keeping track of what I saw. Not because I wanted to reach a certain number but because knowing how many species I was able to identify on my own was a testament to how much I had learned and how far I had come in just a few (2) years. My 300th species came in the form of a Grasshopper Sparrow in Northern Lower Michigan. It was very exciting because I didn't really know how to identify many sparrows at the time but they seemed like they could be a lot of fun especially when they had neat names.

Things changed drastically between 300 and 400. I became obsessed with birding. I wanted to find out how good of a birder I could be, how many things I could see, and what I was capable of when I pushed myself to my limits. I set a state record, I chased birds, I got upset if I missed a sighting. Four years ago I hated that type person because they seemed to not care about the birds themselves so I attempted to make an effort to observe behavior, practice the identification, and enjoy EVERYTHING. However, there were times when I failed because I was simply too caught up in the moment.

(Me enjoying birding from a parking lot)

At the end of my year I was left to a similar conclusion as Ken Kauffman was at the end of his big year; the journey, the process, the birds are what make it worth it. The listing is exhausting. Listing can be fun as it pushes you to be out birding every day and can help you keep track of how far you come. However, somehow it seems as if our motivation as birders has switched away from this. Life lists, year lists, etc no longer really represent what we know or what we've learned; instead they reflect how talented the people we bird with are, how talented the people are in the state we live, how often we are called about rarities, how often we chase rarities, etc.

Stop and think for a moment: how many birds have YOU seen? Not how many birds have you chased. When was the last time you went birding, had a completely average or below average day and were proud of it? I'm guilty of saying "gee today was really slow and below par" and being bummed about it at times. But I want to fight this so bad. I like anyone will fall into this trap. I just really hope that I surround myself with better people than I have at times in the past. People who appreciate rarities from a distance (and don't harass the hell out of them), people who genuinely appreciate every bird they see, and people who recognize that "getting out into the field isn't a means to the end, it itself is the end".

(people who genuinely care about the birds)

My big year was filled with many above average and below average days. But each one of them is what made it great. Because the year ended up being about much more than a number and a total. However, it would have been very easy, the temptation was there, and on some days I gave in to it and the number became my focus. I think as a birder it is impossible to escape this temptation at times. However, I promise to myself to strive to escape it as much as possible, to appreciate every day, every bird, every experience, and every walk where we see "nothing" because everything is part of the journey and everything is part of our life. And really, the "big life" isn't about a total of species. It's about knowledge, growth, happiness, friends, and family.

(friends who are practically family)

Two years ago 300 species said a lot about me: it said I had come from hating birds and birders to learning to love, accept, and identify. 450 says I've grown some more, but it also says that I bird with three of the most experienced birders in the state on a regular basis. It says that people call me about rarities, and it says that I've moved to a new geographical region of the country. What says way more about the last two years is that I now can identify dozens of warblers by song and/or call. I can tell you about uppertail and undertail coverts of Common Gull. I can tell you about retricies and tarsi of Jaegers. I can tell you when Blackpoll Warblers arrive in NH, when you're likely to happen upon a Black Tern, and how to read radar for migration.

These are the things I'm proud of now; not 450.

Little Blue Heron

Yesterday morning I headed to the coast (what's new, right?) to see if anything got pushed around in the nights winds. However, it seems like most things were dumped further south in PA and NJ. The strong winds continued throughout the morning so I focused my attention on studying what birds were around instead of searching for passerines.

A lot of people don't study birds. That is, a lot of people don't take the time to re-look at a Great Blue Heron after they've seen thousands. They pass over them without really studying their shape, size, patterning, etc. Sometimes I'm guilty too. However, its important to realize that studying such birds puts you in a better place to realize something like a Grey Heron. (Not to mention all birds are enjoyable!)

Anyway, yesterday I was studying Egrets in Rye Harbor Marsh to prepare myself to one day find a Little Egret. There was a darker blob to the left of these birds which I passed off as a crow as it was really small looking and iridescent. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I saw it extend its neck and watched it emerge from the marsh grasses; It was clearly a Little Blue Heron and I clearly shouldn't have assumed dark blob = crow. Unfortunately my camera was dead and without a memory card so I was only able to manage a few phone-scoped shots including this one:

eBird tells me that this is my 200th NH year bird for 2010, which is remarkably 8 ahead of the 192 I had tallied by May 6th last year! (No, I'm not planning on breaking 308.)

Yellow Warbler in Lilac Bush

Today I photographed this Yellow Warbler in a Lilac Bush (NH's State Flower). While a very common species I always like seeing them. Especially since they've just returned. I really like the combination of Yellow and Purple in these shots too. Hope you enjoy! More of my photos can be found at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/lkras/

Baseball

Once upon a time I had another blog. This blog was about baseball. Today I was thumbing through some old posts on this blog and I crossed one where I wrote the following:

"Do you ever wonder why?
Why do we watch this game?
Why do we take 3 hours out of our day only to see our team blow the lead in the 9th inning to take a grueling loss?
Why do we give it our all?
Why do we care so much?
Why do we love this game when it clearly loves no one?
I was sitting around asking these questions to a few people today.
Seriously what is the point of it all?

Life is tough enough as it is... so why deal with this game that does nothing but seem to break me down?

Here’s what I came up with so far:

Baseball is so great because it has a point, its something we understand. There are different levels to it so it isn’t fair. We don’t like fair. We like to be distinguished. There are different levels within the game and different levels to understanding it. All the same anyone can understand it on some level.
Baseball is, in essence, pitching, fielding, hitting. There’s a point to it; an end goal of victory. More points, better score, equal victory. It’s something we grasp, its real, and it makes life seem real. Life isn’t something we can grasp. It’s beyond comprehension, but baseball isn’t. Baseball is life on a level we can understand.
Baseball is man’s struggle to be great. It’s man working, cheating, stealing, pushing, lying, and grinding out plays, games, and seasons. It reflects life perfectly. Some people are better at it than others. Some have different key skills. Some people play fair, some don’t. It can provide happy and depressing memories. That’s what makes baseball great. That’s why we spend so much time on it.

I spend too much time thinking.

Go Sox."

Yesterday I went to a baseball game. My team didn't win. In fact, they were up by 3 and blew the lead after they took out Tim Wakefield after 6 2/3rds innings. Somewhere after the home run which tied the game I realized that it didn't really matter if they won or lost because I somehow had found peace and happiness in just attending the game. As I once said to my peers in Michigan while trying to describe baseball - "it's safe, its peaceful, its home."

Dutchman's Breeches

One of my favorite spring flowers. Seen here with Spring Beauty.

How to understand a bell curve

The following is an example of a Bell Curve.

What is a Bell Curve you probably ask? Well this is from wikipedia: "In probability theory and statistics, the normal distribution or Gaussian distribution is a continuous probability distribution that often gives a good description of data that cluster around the mean. The graph of the associated probability density function is bell-shaped, with a peak at the mean, and is known as the Gaussian function or bell curve"

In other words - most things are average, a few are better, a few are worse. So why am I talking about this instead of talking about birds? Well I AM talking about birds. More specifically I'm talking about spring arrivals.

Everyone is up in arms this year because it "seems so early". So the other day I did a little research and broke down the species into 3 categories using Pam Hunt's spring arrival dates list. If a bird was reported before the 1st quartile it was considered early, if after, it was considered on time, if the bird should be here (later than median) by now but has not been reported it was considered late. I ignored nocturnal birds (ie - Virginia Rail, American Bittern) and birds that also overwinter regularly (ie - Cooper's Hawk, Red-tailed Hawk, etc.) as it would be impossible to determine if the bird was an overwintering bird or an actual arrival.

7 species were considered "early", 30 species were considered "on time", and 5 species were "late". Basically most are average (on time), a few are better (early), a few are worse (late). It is interesting to note that about half of the "on time species" were clustered close to the 1st quartile date and the other half lagged slightly behind. I found this chart using google image search which sums up the data of the 7, 14, 16, 5 split very well:

In other words there have been:

7 Early Adopters - aka early bird gets the worm

14 Pragmatists - lets face it, it's a long journey to the breeding ground, what if you get lost? And building a nest and setting up territories is a lot of work!

16 Conservatives - they're enjoying their journey up and seeing some sights on their way; trip to Cape May, Cape Cod

5 Laggards - maybe they should listen to the pragmatists

... and that's still a completely normal distribution

So the next time you say its an early year because you heard a Pine Warbler on an earlier date than you ever had before... remember that it's not an early year. After all, you still haven't seen a Barn Swallow.