New Bird For Our Life List

“Some people are very competitive in their birding. Maybe they'll die happy, having seen a thousand species before they die, but I'll die happy knowing I've spent all that quiet time being present.” 

― Lynn Thomson

A birding life list is a list count of all the avians a birder has ever observed and properly identified. 

Many dedicated birders allocate time and resources just to be able to keep their lists growing. 

If you are casual bird watchers like we are, it is possible to grow your list to 100 species or more if you are on a migration route.

Linda and I don't keep meticulous records (or any records at all outside of our memories) and we aren't obsessed with growing our list. We don't even know exactly how many species are on our list.

We have never traveled specifically to find new birds to add to our list like serious birders do, although we always watched for birds everywhere we went.

These days it is not often that we get to add new birds to our life list. 

But today we did. Right from the comfort of home.

We have never before had the pleasure of seeing snow buntings, the hardiest, most mysterious, and possibly cutest of little birds.

They breed in the high arctic, and migrate south as far as northern USA. They are not fond of forests, preferring open, flat areas like where they breed.

Yesterday, while in the kitchen, Linda looked out our front door and saw a flock of about 40 cute, plump, mostly white birds pecking on the gravel/lawn. 

We had never seen them before so got out the binoculars for a better look. A quick search on the internet led us to find what they were.

Snow buntings!

We mentally added them to our list.

We will never join the prestigious "600" club, which would mean observeding 75% of all the species found in North America.

But Nova Scotia is a birding hot spot with over 478 species that either live here or pass through. About 174 species breed here. Pretty impressive numbers.

Still, we will never be ranked among the top birders that count their life lists in the thousands of species. 

The world record holder has 9684 species on his list, after travelling to 120 countries over many decades to complete this impressive feat.

If you are interested in working on your own list, just for fun, there are rules to adding entries.

1. The bird must be observed in its native habitat.

2. It can't be captive, must be found wild and free. A bird in a cage doesn't count.

3. It must be positively identified.

4. It must be ethically observed, meaning it can't be added to your list if it is seen while trespassing on private land, or if the bird has been intentionally flushed.

5. The bird can't be dead.

If a 600 life list is too ambitious, you might try a back yard list. 

It is a free and fun way to observe nature and get to know your local area better.

For us birding is a simple pleasure we really enjoy, and we are so grateful for the snow buntings coming to visit us.

We wish them well on their approaching migration back north.

Not Extinct Yet

Elation. 

That is what I felt when I heard the distinctive call of a common nighthawk overhead. 

"Peent."

I looked up, and there it was, catching insects as it flew above me. 

It looked lonely, perhaps only because I know that the species has been in decline for decades.

A few days later in the same place I saw three nighthawks hunting and buzz diving together. 

Elation times three.

"Not extinct yet," I thought with a smile.

Numbers of common nighthawk over southern Canada have fallen about 70% since 1970.

This could be why.  

The insect apocalypse: ‘Our world will grind to a halt without them’

 

"Few people seem to realise how devastating this is, not only for human wellbeing – we need insects to pollinate our crops, recycle dung, leaves and corpses, keep the soil healthy, control pests, and much more – but for larger animals, such as birds, fish and frogs, which rely on insects for food. Wildflowers rely on them for pollination. As insects become more scarce, our world will slowly grind to a halt, for it cannot function without them."

No insects, no things that need insects to survive.

If the bottom of the food chain breaks down, eventually everything above that critical foundation will also fall.

All the way up to us.

And yet, there are the nighthawks, calling and soaring and insect-eating right above me.

It is possible, like the common nighthawks, that humanity might hold strong against current tendencies toward extinction, and survive until conditions on Earth improve for all life.

It may be unlikely, but it is one possibility.

The birds overhead give me hope that we will find our wings soon, and as a species take flight toward the better world we know is possible.

One that has room for nighthawks.

Status of the Common Nighthawk 

Status history: Designated Threatened in April 2007. Status re-examined and designated Special Concern in April 2018.

The species is ranked as Not at Risk globally (G5), Apparently Secure (N4B) in Canada and Secure (N5B) in the United States. However, it is considered as Critically Imperilled (S1), Imperilled (S2), or Vulnerable (S3) in 14 of 48 states and nine of 13 provinces and territories in which it occurs. In the remaining provinces (British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan, and Ontario) it is ranked Apparently Secure (S4) or Secure (S5).

Threats and Limiting Factors

Widespread threats that may have an important impact include reduced abundance of aerial insects due to effects of agricultural and other pesticides, changes in precipitation and hydrological regimes, changes in temperature regimes, and increasing frequency of severe or extreme weather events. Several other threats have been proposed, but appear to be less severe or affect only a small proportion of the population.

Hummingbirds: The Joy Of Creation

Every mid-May the hummingbirds return to our area, and when they get here, our feeder is out to greet them. Because of these busy, tiny birds, it is a joyful time of year.

The males come back first, setting up territories that they vigorously defend. Then female hummers return, and after that - babies. The cycle continues, and it is good.

Our feeder can be seen from our kitchen sink, and when we are cooking or doing dishes there is endless entertainment just outside the window.

It is said that hummingbirds open the heart. 

When we connect with hummingbirds, we delight in the sheer joy of living. 

Life is a wonderland of sensuous delights, and we exist in its beauty, delighting in spring flowers, aromas, early sunrises, and the taste of fresh wholesome foods. 

Hummingbirds remind us to laugh and enjoy creation, to appreciate the magic of being alive and the beauty of nature all around us.

Sure the world can be a messed up place, but that should not blind us to the infinite beauty around us at all times.

This is the vision, and gift, of heart-opening Hummingbirds.

Seasonal Neighbours And Nature's Calendar

As much as possible I like to live without clocks, watches, day-timers, and calendars of any sort. I prefer to fly by the seat of my pants. 

You don't need a calendar if you live close to nature and go slow enough to notice what is going on around you. Besides letting you know everything from when to plant to when to lay up stores, it is also soul soothing to experience.

Take our seasonal neighbours that flew in recently. Every year around this time, Canada geese drop in to the field across the road to muster. They eat, nap, eat, nap, poop, flap their big wings, and prepare for their southerly migration. 

After lounging in the field all day, dusk hits and they alight in a noisy notice of their short flight to a nearby lake where they spend the night.

The arrival of the geese coincides with subtle colour changes in the forest, amongst other signs that Nature's cycles are moving on, and will do so with us, or without us. 

Most notable and potentially distressing, is the drop in temperature, and the slow slide into the coming darkness. We have already lost 3.5 hours of daylight since summer solstice. 

On the other hand, we have 3.5 hours more sunlight now than we will have on winter solstice. 

I am also grateful for the pile of wood we have laid up in the garage for winter, and for the fact that there are only 182 day/night cycles to go until spring equinox! 

Our temporary honky neighbours will most certainly move on before the really cold weather comes. I would go with them, if I could, but I can only fly for about 2 meters at a time and it would be hard to keep up.

Flap, flap, flap!

Instead I will stick around these parts, clean our wood stove, and look forward to the first cozy fire that will inevitably come shortly after the geese leave.

Happy Fall/Spring.

RePurposing Our Van As A Bird Feeder

We haven't driven our van for months. It's been great - we don't miss it. Is it possible that this tired hunk of ancient metal, glass and rubber can still be useful?

Certainly not as a mobility device. It can not be driven as it is not registered or insured, and at the moment it won't even start. Currently it is as useful as having a large anchor in the driveway.

Until I repurposed it. 

As a bird feeder. 

A big, big bird feeder.

"Peanuts in mirror are closer than they appear."

A while back I thought that I might be insulting the crows intelligence by being boring and throwing peanuts on to the lawn for them. I thought for such an smart bird that was not challenging enough, so I looked for situations that might be more cognitively appropriate. 

I started hiding peanuts around the yard, but without any close trees or shrubs or much of anything, the options were limited. So I looked to the van.

I found places on our inert internal combustion conveyance to stash a few peanuts. Door handles, top of window, mirrors - anywhere they would stick on.

Then I watched and waited.

A customer waits patiently.

It didn't take long till I was watching crows flying up and deftly picking peanuts from all the spots. It appeared that this was more... fun?... for them than strolling across the lawn and eating peanuts carelessly tossed there by the peanut dispenser (me).

Now the crows have an opportunity to exercise their intelligence and problem solving skills plucking peanuts from the nooks and crannies of the van bird feeder, and I get to watch their amazing antics. 

Also, I have the satisfaction of making our van useful once again - this time without spewing toxic tailpipe gases. It is also infinitely safer at 0 km per hour than any speed faster than that. Let's not forget that driving remains a very dangerous activity that kills and injures hundreds of thousands or people every year.

Save the world (and possibly yourself) - park your motor vehicle and turn it into a bird feeder. It's an all around winning idea.

1) Escape the tyranny of the complicated and expensive personal mobility device, 

2) the birds will love it, and 

3) the atmosphere won't complain either. 

We cal that there a win-win-win situation. We need more of those in the world right now.

Not Cancelled

Blossoming flowers, like these snowdrops down the road, have NOT been cancelled.

Please be aware that the following have NOT been cancelled.



- the stars in the night sky (major show every cloud-free night)

- spring (I saw a coyote close to home yesterday - they are more visible this time of year as they look for potential mates, so coyote dating has obviously also not been cancelled.)

- Skyping with loved ones (we had a nice visit with Linda's mom today. Talk about social distancing - we were 5000 km apart. Totally safe.)

- cleaning the house (sorry)

- laughing (not the nervous kind, which has been cancelled)

- sleeping and napping (indulge yourself - sleep is a immune system booster)

- cooking yourself some yummy food (I recommend double chocolate chip cookies with toffee bits as a mood enhancer - hey, these are tough times)

- curling up with a good book (is that not a luxury these days?)

- singing (stage your own damn concerts... for yourself or a small group of people you know, or video it and post it to the internet)

- playing an instrument (nothing like live music, see above)

- blossoming flowers (I saw snowdrops down the road on a recent bike ride)

- this year's maple syrup (I see my neighbour's farm gate syrup stand is up and running - just drop your money in the jar and go)

- bird migrations (we saw our first wave of Robins today, also bald eagle, and red tailed hawk)

- having fun at home, in the yard, or alone in the wilderness (get creative, artistic, meditative)


Instead of what has been cancelled, take a look at all that is left, still running and moving forward as if nothing is happening. 

A person would do well to get lost in that for a while, now that self-isolation has given so many the gift of time (another thing that has not been cancelled).

Enjoy everything that has not been cancelled. There is lots to choose from.

Rural Facial Recognition

"I see you, I recognize you, I remember you. I will tell my community about you. Be kind."

One thing I don't miss about the big city are the cameras pointed everywhere. Add facial recognition software, and we are talking about another level of technological intrusion. 

So much for the right to anonymity. 

Anonymity plays a key role in safeguarding freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, and freedom of privacy. It is also not conducive to good mental health to feel constantly surveilled by both Big Brother and Big Business.

There are no surveillance cameras out here in rural Nova Scotia. But there is a form of facial recognition going on. I am talking about our neighbourhood crows, and their amazing ability to remember a person's face for life.

Not only can these intelligent birds recognize a face, they can also pass that information on to their whole crow community. 

"Kevin J. McGowan, an ornithologist at the Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology who has trapped and banded crows in upstate New York for 20 years, said he was regularly followed by birds who have benefited from his handouts of peanuts — and harassed by others he has trapped in the past." -MICHELLE NIJHUIS

For the past few years I have been feeding a local family of crows peanuts, but only during the harshest months of the year. We have developed a routine in which we don't see each other all summer and fall, but as soon as the weather gets cold, they come back. 

They are coming back now, affirming that another cycle around the sun is descending into cold and darkness. I meet it with equal parts of dread and excitement. 

Now that we have had our first snowfall (it's gone already), the crows are doing the slow fly by, looking in our windows. They are looking for me and my bucket of nuts.


I am happy to see them back. The crows and I will ride out the winter together. They will teach me about their "fiery mixture of intelligence, tenacity, and spirit", and me and my face will feed them.

That is the kind of facial recognition I don't mind. 

Live Simply, So The Birds Can Simply Live

- photo credit Brian Sullivan

I wait for the return of the swallows every spring. For me, they rival the robin for the position of Official Harbinger of the season. 

On the west coast we lived close to a vehicle bridge under which many swallows nested in their little mud homes built on the girders. Now on the east coast, we live on an old farm that has old, open outbuildings, including a small barn, that provide perfect nesting sites for swallows. 

Over the years the wait for the swallows in spring has become troubling.

In Nova Scotia (like most of North America), swallow numbers are down dramatically since the 1980s. It is hardly an isolated case in the bird universe. These ancient descendants of dinosaurs are finally being done in by the new kid on the block, Homo consumericus. 

There are so many threats to the ecosystem that it is difficult to finger any one cause for the decline of birds. More than likely, these threats operate synergistically and therefore become a greater threat together than any one individually.

"The main causes of the recent decline in Barn Swallow populations are thought to be:

 

1) loss of nesting and foraging habitats due to conversion from conventional to modern farming techniques;

 

2) large-scale declines (or other perturbations) in insect populations; and

 

3) direct and indirect mortality due to an increase in climate perturbations on the breeding grounds."

- Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada 

And I would add: 

4) high consumption lifestyles.

Because of the above, each spring when I spot the first barn swallow of the year, my heart skips a beat. Each returning individual is cause for celebration.  

Before long, small groups of swallows are squeaking and hunting acrobatically around our house, in the yard, and over the fields. When successful breeding takes place, the numbers increase in a most joyous way.

Each barn swallow can eat up to 1000 insects every day. They are perfectly designed to inhabit a specialized niche, which happens to encompass the human world (they like us!), and they do so with balance and efficiency. 

Something else I appreciate is how they demonstrate fearlessness and confidence in their flying skills as they zoom through the air, seemingly recklessly, but in full control.

If only I could live as simply and efficiently as these wonderful birds, without doing any harm, being supremely good at what I do, while adding beauty and a useful service to the circle of life. 

I live simply, so the barn swallows, and other birds, can simply live. When it comes down to choosing between a high consumption lifestyle and the birds, I choose birds.

It would truly be a "silent spring" if the swallows and other birds continued their current vanishing act right into extinction. I would miss them dearly.

Earth Day and Earth Girl

Linda aka Earth Girl in her preferred habitat - surrounded by Nature.

On April 22, 1967 Earth Girl was born. I was 6 years old, and living 6,000 kilometres away. Little did I know that our paths were destined to cross 20 years later.

Three years after Earth Girl's birth, on April 22, 1970, millions of people took to the streets on the very first Earth Day. What got people into the streets was a desire to highlight the negative effects of 150 years of industrialization. 

Fast forward to 1987, and we see that fate finally had its way with us. The day our paths crossed represents one of the best moments of my life. I had found a partner that loved Nature as much as I did, and was willing to go to any lengths to enjoy and protect it.

Now, it is difficult for me to separate Earth Day and Earth Girl. It seems that they are one and the same. She would rather live poor in a cave close to nature than reside in a high society penthouse with unlimited wealth. She will not be separated from her source, our source, THE source - Mother Nature. 

Today, both are imperilled. 

Mother Earth and Earth Girl have both endured terrible attacks, perhaps from similar sources. Has 200 years of industrial development caused the disease of multiple sclerosis? No one knows, but I am certain that it hasn't helped. 

Unfortunately, the conventional industrial "treatments" haven't helped either, and they often make things worse. How can you treat something when the cause remains a total mystery? We should be very wary of a system that is causing all the problems offering so-called solutions to those problems.

But Linda has found her own treatment, and that is living close to Nature.

This morning I got up to initiate our morning routine, and wanted to do something special for her as she lay in bed waiting for me to assist her. I opened our bedroom window wide. She listened, and smiled. 

Our room was instantly filled with the sounds of songbirds singing their praises to the Earth, and perhaps to Earth Girl as well. We could hear a woodpecker hammering on a hollow tree trunk in the distance, and some peepers, too. 

I didn't buy anything for Linda's birthday, for what could be better than the ample gifts of Nature? Plus, she doesn't want anything. Just me. 

Next year will be the 50th anniversary of Earth Day. Is the Earth better off than it was in 1970? 

MS aside, I can confidently say that 52 years after Linda's birth, she is better than ever. 

Today I celebrate Earth Day. But I am celebrating Earth Girl even more.

Bike Ride: From The Ridge To The Ocean

Our Nova Scotia home is at the top of a ridge, with views to the west (shown) and the east.

When we lived on the west coast we lived 5 meters (15 ft.) away from the ocean, and maybe 3 meters (10 ft.) above sea level. Birds on the water seemed like they were in our living room, which made identification very easy. Binoculars were optional.

A short distance from home and I get my first glimpse of the ocean below.

Where we are living on the east coast is about 5000 metres (3 miles) from salt water, and at an elevation of 152 meters (500 ft.). It is a little farther and higher, but feels much safer when it comes to winter storms and impending sea level rises. And it does make for an excellent short bike ride.

But I do miss the sea birds.

Almost to the sea, I check for mail, then carry on.

Yesterday I decided to roll out the bike for a ride down to the ocean to see if I could spot any waterfowl. As an added bonus, I could pick up our mail at the community mailbox on the way down.

My destination where Acacia Brook (which flows through the forest behind my home) meets salt water. The tide was low - summer high tides flood the grassy area on the left.

While there was still a bit of messy snow laying around, the road was free and clear and it was a beautiful almost-spring kind of day. It was a great ride, and it felt wonderful to be out... but no birds on the water. I had my binoculars in my pack, but didn't need to pull them out.

However, on the way home the chickadees and white breasted nuthatches in the trees next to the road lifted my bird watching spirits as I peddled uphill to home. 

It was a joyful, successful ride from the ridge to the ocean. And back, thankfully. Linda always loves it when I make it back home. So do I.