First Thanksgiving

Hi Fellow Eaters!

Well, I mean eaters in the Good sense. :)

Balance is a good thing to cultivate -especially looking at the next few weeks ahead. The National months of winter fattening- from Thanksgiving to New Years, we Americans really do enjoy our meals. But it hasn't always been this way.

For the prairie chicken film, I am struck by the images of our ancestors. There are so many tall and lean people. I mean LEAN. I'm heading to museums soon gathering historical photos for the film so you are likely to see some of them here- coming up.

When many of our ancestors first touched the soils of North America, they had most often completed a voyage of many days. If you read the book Mayflower, the conditions were confined and rather horrid, especially compared to the last trans-Atlantic flight I took. Well maybe not... But, at least my last flight from Italy lasted only 10 hours. No one got sea sick.

For 17th or 18th century boat travelers, food was often old, spoiled or bug infested. So imagine having taken this crossing on a small, crowded boat with - no modern plumbing- and you have been there for about a month. Not so pleasant is it?

Suddenly, and Thankfully, you are on dry land in a world filled with game but you are from a culture which has realistically, already left the hunter-gather model generations before. You and your shipmates are now learning skills you have never used - and your lives depend upon it.

Native Americans greet you and treat you well. Perhaps pitying the fools (as Mr T says.) But somewhere nearing the end of a long summer, when the rocky soils of New England did bear fruit for at least those who were in tune with the land, and the rhythms of the seasons, a meal of gratitude was planned. Probably by the Native Americans. Those Puritans were pretty austere, traditional folks and I kinda doubt they just decided to have a feast.

But the Native Americans had spent around eight hundred generations cultivating and harvesting the the land. They knew quohogs and heath hen, multitudes of fish including Atlantic Salmon, deer, elk moose, grouse and turkey. Simultaneously, we know that a variety of squash, corn, beans, nuts quinoa, sunflower and many other adapted herbs and even medicinal plants abounded naturally or were specifically cultivated. I suspect that for the culture our ancestors found, there was a pretty good life going on, but we really came loaded with baggage. In the psychological sense...

As I gather data for the film, I read about the alleged contracts between indentured servants and the "employers". The Smithsonian Institution states "the servants actually sought in their labor contracts to limit their having to eat heath hen to only two days a week instead of daily." I am eager to film a copy of one of these.

But what this does tell us about is a factor of abundance. The last Heath Hen walked into the scrub oak barrens near West Tisbury in March of 1932 and never was seen again. What had we done to eliminate a species once so incredibly abundant?

From the perspective of a lifetime, it is easy to see change. How simple it is to look back to the early history of our country- now only - reaching 400 years since that landing and the feast we still celebrate.

For the purposes of this blog- just be certain that the subspecies of the Greater Prairie Chicken known as the Heath Hen was a certain part of the first Thanksgiving and for our ancestors for decades after- until we wiped them out.

So this year- 2010, let's give thanks that we have not wiped out the entire population of many of our native species. Let's give thanks that even a few of our ancestors had foresight and wisdom enough to begin to preserve natural wonders. Then the animals that lived there. Be Thankful that so many of us are now waking up.

As we slice and serve our processed factory farm Turkey- Let's be Thankful that today there are millions of us who are genuinely concerned about the environment- which gives us life and sustains millions of birds, and all the life they too depend upon. We are going to find a way to achieve a better balance and respect for the earth -our Mother. Resolve to make 2011 a great year for Conservation.

NO L's in Conservation

I wrote this the other day and it is fast becoming one of my favorite sayings.

There are NO L's in Conservation.

For about 6 months in my public speaking, I've been emphasizing that:

Conserve

Conservative and

Conservation

Are Identical.

Yet there is a group of people who would have us believe that Conservation is Liberal.

Supporting the Environment is NOT A RADICAL LEFTIST PLOT.

I hope that is very very clear. This is science people.

Now anyone getting to this point in my writing is already deep in understanding this. But I see this as Conservative. I mean... come on. Conservation. This the underlying principle for life to exist.

So who would oppose it? Only those who deny basic scientific principles of Biology ( literally bios- Life, ology- speak or study). We breathe oxygen, and exhale carbon dioxide. So do gasoline engines.

I suppose that one could concede that life cycles have indeed been a part of the history of the earth. But to do so threatens the existence of all life. Those in denial of the changes to the living ecosystems of the earth are blind in pursuit of things I understand but no longer find as a personal priority.

For most of my life, I have been in love with birds and nature. I have had greater short term thrills, I've experienced greater temporary highs. But in 2011, I will celebrate 30 years of having adopted a life of sobriety. This has changed me in other less obvious ways to those locked into the superficial life.

I am a rock. Conservation is a hard place.

Figure it out.

There are NO L's in Conservation.

National Birding Stamp - part One

Folks,

It is time to make a change. Some folks advocate the annual purchase of a Duck Stamp. But this action, while providing for some wetland support, does nothing to really help much else.

I've been on record for many years as a supporter of a National Birding Stamp program and I think my argument is finally water tight.

This is a technical and lengthy discussion however so you'll have to come back to read about it.

Whale Slaughter in perspective- Part 1

Take a look in the mirror today.

It is October 29, 2010. I received an email which had begun in traveled through New Zealand, Australia, Brazil, South Africa, Mexico, Argentina, Portugal, Botswana, Britain, and appeared to finally be reaching the US.

While I am dismayed at the brutality of the scene, I have seen many deeply troubling scenes like this for years. I am a wildlife film maker.

I am asked to review films each year as a volunteer at one of several film festivals. I try to make time to do this as a free service. Various groups now have access to wonderful video cameras- light weight and high resolution and because of this- in our industry we see many troubling images from around the world.

If there is a single message I see and hear from deep inside myself as I peer into the mirror, it is simple but clear. There are too many humans on this planet and with the growth rates of our species, which we are seeing we will outstrip every available resource sometime in the next 100 years.

Today I checked the World Population clocks. There are several on line. 6,852,336,963 people needing food shelter and love. Too many of us see ourselves as needing to do anything we can to feed ourselves.

Folks, Friends, Family- It is Time to Wake up. From Inside ourselves to Around the World.

Our species has learned to domesticate our food sources because it created a steady supply. Still we continue to persecute Wild Animal Populations around the world in scenes like this or in others less obvious. I shuddered just as deeply when I read China was beginning to harvest Krill from Antarctica to feed to pigs. The image of a huge factory ship gobbling up tiny shrimp-like creatures and turning them into protein mush is not as sickening but is killing whales perhaps even more rapidly than this atrocity we are shown.

From Lowland Gorillas (used for Bush Meat) to the Genocide shown graphically below, in every - EVERY ECOSYSTEM we humans interact with by living there or visiting, we annihilate anything we choose, blindly believing that SOME MYTHICAL ABUNDANCE will somehow provide for us and wipe our sins away.

Meanwhile, we add 5-6 MILLION people to this planet every month. Entire world religions continue to not only turn a blind eye to this, but actively promote ignoring Birth Control and advise the Divine Sanctity of human life.

I am not an enlightened Master, but it seems we are missing something here.

By this day in 2013 (October 23rd) we humans will have passed 7 Billion of our kind on this planet. These are friends, neighbors and families of someone we know. They are potential Einsteins or Mother Teresas. But each one still has to be fed. Each one deserves to be educated and loved. And this is why you and I both need to look deeply into that mirror.

As we surge toward 8 Billion people on this planet at a rate of 5-6 Million new babies each month who will you deny? Old people are still dying, soldiers are being killed, whales are being slaughtered, birds and insects are going extinct.

The conundrum of our time is very simple. We live in a world becoming increasingly smaller each day. Because we are filling it with more humans each day.

We in the West push our religion on every other part and along with it our washing machines computers and every trapping of our "superior" society. Television and internet link us like never before so that a child born today in a slum of rural Alabama or urban Sao Paulo, Calcutta or Chicago or Lagos Nigeria- will watch the famous leap of Michael Jordan at least once in his life. He will be offered Nike shoes, Apple iPhones, Hundayi cars and wonder at the amazing technology and why he has a lack. Truth be told, there is plenty of money and food to provide a better life for that child. Truth be told, he or she will not have that unless many circumstances miraculously fall into place or we find the perfect society. Don't count on either.

Capitalism as practiced by the radical right in the US today will ignore this child while preaching the virtues of greed.

I know that the solution lies in halting the rate of population explosion of humans. I know that every human now is linked in ways we could never have imagined. I know this child will see the riches of a developed country and told by marketers they should want to be a consumer too.

I know each human deserves a good life.

But so does every living animal species. and I believe the wildlife is in a critical dangerous place world wide. More importantly I feel - I FEEL - deep inside we are going to push many species to the edge of extinction. I feel that if we ignore this too much longer, we will push things to far and the elimination and eventual extinction of our species will begin. Worse, I feel this will wipe out millions of innocent species along with us.

The improvement of life for each person can be accomplished... and we can save many species that are part of our rich, diverse, beautiful and wonderful world. I even believe we can get back to a better place for wildlife, a better balance. But we actually need to decrease the human population to about half of where we are today to do both.

Take a look in the mirror today. Love yourself, see the determination to help things get better, Love the world and resolve to do one thing to make it a better place each day. Resolve to do this with Grace and Compassion- tenderness and firmness. Be disciplined in your life and practice restraint along with resolve.

OVER 5 MILLION NEW HUMAN MOUTHS EACH MONTH. WHAT IS THE LARGEST CITY IN YOUR COUNTRY? OR PERHAPS MORE PRECISELY: WHAT CITY OF 5 MILLION WOULD YOU ADD THIS YEAR? WHERE WOULD YOU PUT IT AND WHAT HAPPENS TO THE ENVIRONMENT AND THE BEAUTIFUL NATIVE ANIMALS THAT USED TO BE THERE?

Take a look in the mirror today.

Remembering good things

I think as we grow older we put a warmer tone to all things. Each pain has receded further so it is not as immediate, each fondness glows warmer with deeper appreciation.

Stop to think about the first bird you saw which may have triggered your birding hobby or in my case a full blown- totally overwhelmingly lovely addiction. I'll have to think when birding went beyond fun to I can't live without doing things with birds all day every day. It has been a long time ago. I think it was during a really painful period. Hmmm....

But the ideas for this post came with a particular rememberence of my other passion - that for Cardinal baseball. This memory was of a moment with my son- then 9 years old. Danny Cox was pitching for the Redbirds and Josh and I were so excited. The Cardinals won and I recall the feeling of hugging my son with the vibration of thousands of exuberant voices at the final out. This was the first World Series I had been to since Game 7 of the 1968 epic series with the Detroit Tigers. Bob Gibson. That did not end so well but the reversal of those sad memories were being overwritten by a strong positive outcome.

The memory of that total thrill was triggered by seeing the articles in the St. Louis Post on line at stltoday.com/sports about manager Whitey Herzog. Whitey is being inducted into the Hall of fame in Cooperstown this coming weekend. I've now missed two induction ceremonies. Once, I drove over 2,196 miles from Montana to participate as a fan in the induction of one of my true heroes -Ozzie Smith. Ozzie had taken a few moments to go out of his way to show kindness to my family one hot St.Louis afternoon when we spotted him and his then very young son at a game. Heather, Josh and I had retrieved our stuff and were leaving when we realized that my binoculars were not with us. We retreated rapidly to our seats where under the accumulated Bratwurst wrappers and other debris, the pair of 8.5x 42 Swift Audubons were still safe. Checking for other stuff possibly left behind took only a second or two more and Josh had a ball we had caught firmly in his hand. So we finally began our exit from Busch Stadium II.

We reached one of the large common areas when suddenly Ozzie appeared. He literally asked us how the game was and whether we had a good time. Then taking the ball from Josh he autographed it -without any quibble or anything other than the shear joy of being the generous human he is.

But my greatest tearful thrill was that Game 5 victory when Josh and I shared with 55,000 other baseball crazed Cardinal fans. It is one of those very special father and son moments I will never forget.

Craziness in Louisiana part 1

As if the Big Mess were not enough… harassment and restriction of journalist and film makers is also on going.

Intimidation occurs in several forms.

First is direct confrontation. On my second day, I was standing on the side of Hwy heading toward Grand Isle when two large vehicles with flashing red and blue lights came charging up to me. At that moment, I was filming a pickup that had been submerged in the tidal marshes to the north of the road. I was standing on a fairly broad shoulder and was not overly close to traffic or any other harm. My vehicle was on the other side of the road, facing east. One police SUV drove directly to my car and the other came straight at me. This officer jumped out of his SUV and walked directly to me speaking loudly and holding his right hand to his weapon.

I have a camera. Television - standard size with a rather large lens, since I normally do bird filming. This lens of course is a zoom, and can go quite wide too. Moments before I had filmed a Snowy and Great Egrets at a culvert going under a road entering a fenced off but very open building. I have no idea what it is or was.

There was one other thing I found very relevant- a large squarish dome of foam swirling above an inlet submerged after rain. I found the motion to be totally intriguing.

The officer demanded "What are you doing here and do you have identification?"

"I need to see some identification now. You are in a high risk security zone and have a camera. After 9/11 you can not film here."

I bristled at first showing him what I was filming.

This was confusing and almost disorientating to me. I had been filming the day before well down the road in the same port area, where I stood less than 100 feet from an officer, looked like the same guy almost, and had my camera out as well as another crew with 4 members fully operating nearby. On that day I had been directly talking with these guys when asking about beach access. What was the difference?

In the end I provided drivers license and my business card to them. They wrote things down and then left.

But every time a cop then pulls in behind you- you are wondering what is going on? … and a little scared when you are doing nothing wrong.

Intimidation.

There are hundreds of officers doing what they are told and thinking they are doing the right thing for us. But who is in charge?

I was "guided" by other sheriff's deputies to do this, then… that and before long you have spoken to 5 people driven 25 miles and accomplished close to nothing. The light is now bad and the heat is intense. Louisiana is experiencing record heat this June. But a big company like CNN have one person -associate producers who do this thing all day long. They sort through this stuff. I am a one man band, certainly much more efficient but also in a situation like that which is a rarity in my life- less effective than the big boys.

The whole thing is either Chaos or total disorganization. Now we see the mixed up stupidity of state vs local vs federal vs corporate. ONe central authority please. One place for journalists to check in and get daily briefings, one place for press passes, one place for volunteers. They don't all have to be the Same place - just one centralized location.

I'll finish more on this in the next week and the entry will be called Final Straw.

Prairie Chicken Snippet #1

This is a subject bound to develop into a major controversy. Wind developers seek areas which they consider worthless land. Of course, they want to have a peak amount of wind available so they can generate every available amp watt and volt possible.

I want to support "clean" energy but I also have several gut feelings that Big Money- that never seems to really be very ethical nor really very environmental is now securely in control.

Near Ellesworth, Kansas is a huge wind farm located at least 100 miles away from anywhere. Why? Why do development companies pick these areas which are relatively pristine, and begin the process of ruining them?

These huge wind farms cover 30-60,000 acres. The average person sees them, feels good about them, but does not understand the full implications.

If windfarms are situated on native grasslands- those areas can no longer be burned readily. Prairies need fire to prevent encroachment of trees.

We are not certain of all the implications for prairie chickens and honestly- the current data does not show a clear cut negative. But these studies are only very short term. They do not show the long term trends, which could take 20-30 year to become clear.

However, in my mind the placing of the huge wind farm on the ridges of Sullivan county where the last remnant populations of Greater Prairie Chickens are still hanging on, is foolish and short sighted.

Taller towers could be used to catch the same winds, while being placed on lower ridges or even in the farmed bottomlands which are not so critical to the prairie chickens. The maps of Charles Schwartz's original manuscript are conclusive. The density was highest of all in the northern Missouri counties on the long ridgetops with poor soils. These areas were NOT completely tree free and other grasses like bromegrass, red-top (Agrostis) and timothy were common. All of these are introduced grasses, but prairie chickens and the insects they needed to raise young did fine in them.

In our agricultural communities, trends can spread very quickly. If one farmer makes a bunch of money because he planted soybeans, the next year, 20 farmers will be planting soybeans because they need the success too. It is really hard to make money in farming. Of course, with so many more acres planted in the same crop -the prices rarely reach the same levels as before.

The point is long-term versus short-term.

Long-term the soils that form the basis of all agriculture are fairly poor in Putnam, Sullivan and northern Linn counties. They are well suited for growing grasses and are not productive for row crop agriculture. These counties in the 1940's were the stronghold for a species once numbering in the millions-The Greater Prairie Chicken. As the ornithologist, Mark Robbins recently wrote to me… "is everyone going to just stand around while the species goes extinct?"

May 29, 2010-

All of us, yes, all of us, have a space inside where -what ever we were trained with as right and wrong - lives.

So two things are important in this. One is what were we trained with. The other is how much have we listened to this space?

Other people will debate the divinity or the environment vs genetic attributes of this space- but for today, I don't really care about them. Because in the state of Louisiana the largest Oil-related environmental disaster to ever occur is going on before our eyes.

Many years ago, Neil Young came up with the lines in one of his songs "Even Richard Nixon has God's soul". I'd bet even that applies to Bernard Madoff or Tony Hayward. Each HAVE a touch of conscience. I'd bet they were at least exposed to either one of the worlds major religions and thus have at least a basic understanding that there are right things to do and wrong things to do.

Now Republicans are seeking to shift away the blame from the Bush Administration. But they have LONG been the party that seeks to allow businesses to do anything they damn well please.

Dick Chaney held a series of secret meetings widely known to be with energy developers and oil executives in the White House beginning in the first week of the Bush Administration.

How they can fool so many so often is what scares me. Because at this moment, inside of us all is the feeling of despair about this disaster.

And that is why this blog is named Darkest before the Dawn- we are just not that smart a species. Long Run vs Short Run. We are controlled by interests and economics that value only the short run.

Right now how many oystermen in Louisiana are thinking unlimited oil development offshore in waters over a few thousand feet is a really smart thing? What about the shrimpers? Then, what other kind of fishermen are out there in the Gulf? All of them have lost a way to make a living. All of them are now faced with understanding the overriding importance of the environment.

Some how, some way we need to begin to shift to a longer term outlook which puts Our environmental health at the forefront - before short term gain.

Economy is important but taking care of the environment and Long term goals are actually more important.

I hope to be leaving for the Gulf soon to film this in person.

Upper Texas Gulf Coast

In the whole of Birding, migration is a time of importance and sheer enjoyment.

The importance is because birds are moving from the wintering grounds into areas of habitat where over 1000's of years each species has found a way to maintain populations. The enjoyment comes from our ability to find so many diverse species in a short period of time and often in a concentrated location.

High Island is a bump on an otherwise flat plain of coastal marsh and formerly prairie. There are photos that point this out in a marvelous way during a difficult time. After September 2008, when Hurricane Ike cleaned off the Bolivar Peninsula, High Island was photographed so beautifully.

The point of this is to show that from the air, which of course is what migrants see, High Island is the first big clump of trees appearing along the coast. Consequently, when conditions create a difficult night of migration, tired birds head straight for the first trees available.

In the early 1970's, my childhood friend, Peter, my house-mate Bob and I all piled into my Ford Galaxie 500 for an April trip to Texas. As I recall now our timing was slightly early to the upper coast and we continued on to great birds in the Rio Grande Valley.

In 1975, I returned with my wife Katie and we hit a wonderful fall out primarily consisting of Hooded, Swainson's, Black & White, Orange-crowned, and other migrants in smaller numbers. This again was an early fall out being near the 15th of the month.

1976 the Beaumont convention of the American Birding association. Fantastic birding in both Boy Scout woods as well as Smith Oaks. I think the one photo in the ABA of Ken Kaufmann and myself (both of us at that time with very long beards and hair) was taken in either 'the Cathedral' or in a part of Smith Oaks.

This year I raced back down to make sure the film 'The Big Year' would have actual fallout coverage. The rains and storms pretty much passed over with one day of semi-inclement weather. Fallouts were good but noting rivals the numbers found in the mid 1970's and then a spectacular fallout in April 1996.

April of 1996 was amazing. I had just purchased my Sony Digital Betacam in December of 1995 selling the fantastic BVW-400a to go with widescreen 16x9. So with some cash in my pocket the good old Ford Aerostar van and a new camera, Texas in April is golden.

But at High Island, I was able to film such a great number of birds. For a day or so, it truly felt like 20 years earlier. Huge numbers of American Redstart, Tennessee, Black-throated, Green, Magnolia, Chestnut-sided and Warblers mixed with early migrants like Hooded, Black & White Warblers, and smaller numbers of Yellow-throated and Swainson's Warblers. Blackpoll and Blackburnian Warblers were fairly easily found too. Baltimore and Orchard Orioles, Rose-breasted and Blue Grosbeak and Yellow-breasted Chat competed with Gray Catbirds, Swainson Thrushes and other later migrants Scarlet and Summer Tanagers. This footage is now on line at the Macaulay Library - part of Cornell's famous Lab of Ornithology.

So this year, 2010 I had hopes of repeating that golden year. I noted the movement of what looked like a major frontal system pushing in. Leaving Kansas I was pummeled by winds late on the afternoon. I made it only to Oklahoma City before the drive and accumulation of other long days from spring filming took its toll. The next morning found me swamped in Texas traffic needing to be in the woods where I finally arrived. The birds had come in and many reported good numbers and variety. I filmed little dealing with the 1100 miles and a tired body and brain. All the gear and supplies were here now to be ready for the next days.

Unlike 1996 where huge numbers of birds were everywhere, instead, I found myself working a few locations and getting lucky in other ways. There is a Mulberry tree after one enters the gate and before you even get to the Houston Audubon Society's temporary office area. The morning light hits it quite early, the berries were full and ripe so many common and hardy migrants were actively feeding. I got quite excited to see the male Painted Buntings feeding alongside, Rose-breasted Grosbeak. Over the next couple of days, my goal became to film everything that I could in this one tree as the "job" called for birds dripping from trees.

Most migrants passed over High Island moving inland- which is a good thing- But I still filmed species in the one tree.

Late on the day before the afternoon I was planning to leave I wandered over to the old barn. I had been told that all the spaces to photograph had been reserved so I had avoided going over anyway. But, I noticed that some non-photographers were going in and out. I decided to take a peek too. All of the photographers had left- it was about 4 in the afternoon. So I had time to see what might come in.

I slid into the largest window I could find and settled in. Before the gentle afternoon and evening light faded into a darkness deeper than my camera and f/1.7 lens can handle I filmed no fewer than 8 Canada Warblers, 3 Warbling Vireos, a dozen Swainson's, 3 Wood and a Grey-cheeked Thrush, Blue-headed and single Ovenbirds, Black and White Warbler, Hooded Warbler, 2 Kentuckys, and ...

Nashville Warbler, Yellow-breasted Chat, Scarlet Tanager, Indigo Bunting.

Quietly, I filmed the best Great Crested Flycatcher ever, the best shots of Painted Buntings and so many other clips of bathing warblers it was astonishing. I never made it to Sabine Woods this spring.

I think experiencing the chaos and excitement of migration is one of the ultimate highs of Life.

But these amazing migration points offer so much more than just another place to take a lot of photographs of a lot of birds in a short period of time, or in my case a lot of footage. They offer absorption in a movement of life, a great awakening, the opportunity to feel the humility of understanding things we humans have no possibility to do.

There is nothing like High Island, Texas for birding during migration. Well, Magee Marsh, Ohio... Point Pelee and others feature fabulous numbers of birds too but an entirely different mix. So I will say it again- There is nothing like High Island, Texas for birding during migration.

May 2010

How can it be May? Where did April vanish to?

From the blinds and the mini-helicopter to the quick trip to the upper Texas coast, the whole month of April was a blur.

One of the clearest/sharpest parts of that month was spent in blinds filming Greater Prairie Chickens in Kansas. After initially starting out on what was supposed to be the largest booming ground of these birds near Tecumseh, Nebraska, I shifted down to Kansas for logistical reasons after it became clear that there were just as many birds in Kansas and that the Nebraska booming grounds- for whatever reason- were all significantly smaller than either of the previous two years.

On a booming ground north of Emporia, I found a great location with good access and a nice number of males- 24. This seemed to be a good mix of location, nice size (in terms of number of males), only a few hours commute and good back drops. When on one day of shooting- 11 females arrived to look over the "boys", I was ecstatic. It became easy to make a commitment to a specific area.

In a marathon, one's mind needs focus to provide clarity, to monitor muscle and other bodily functions. In so much of the rest of our 'normal' lives this is done on an unconscious level. Becoming a marathoner, during the '90's changed some of this in my life, permanently.

Now my marathons are longer in nature. This film began in 2008 and I did not receive any funding until August of 2009. I made a commitment to this project by taking out a $30,000 loan thinking I would simply repay it immediately when the backer provided the first check. But then the recession kicked in. The first backer was unable to do anything at the time we had both talked about.

Free fall. I have never jumped out of a plane.

The courage and commitment to running those marathons has proved very useful to me in business. I've only made so much money because my heart out races my brain. But the steady pace comes through in the long run.

By mid-April, shooting the aerial footage of the extensive fires from the mini-Helicopter operated so well by Tabb Firchau was complete. Then the High speed camera arrived. This proved to be a major headache and an expensive lesson. I ended up with about 2 shooting days and fortunately the footage looked pretty good. Earlier a single worn-down battery (provided by the rental company) inside a proprietary box that controls important aspects of this beast allowed these horrible grainy bars across the image.

Finally, with only a few days left, after many emails and several phone calls, the problem was solved. Rain and poor weather delayed - I finally got the sunny conditions needed - perseverance furthers as the I-Ching advises. Steady pace- as I have learned.

Suddenly- in touch with post production supervisors from Fox Studios it rapidly became apparent that their advice was incompetent. The shooting for a new feature film the Big Year was due to begin in about 10 days but the contracted crew was not going to show up to a major location until well after the peak of migration had passed overhead.

I was somewhat dumbfounded by this and literally realized that if I hit the coast in time I could rescue the scene because the hired crew- supposed experts- were going to totally blow it.

Before I knew it, I was on my way to High Island, Texas... and that is where the next entry will begin.

30,000 b.i.f.

30,000 is a pretty big number. If I lived modestly at home and traveled little I could get by with that as a salary in dollars. It is probably a lot of pickles, and although I am certain is a LOT of popcorn kernals, I bet it would fit in one or two 50 pound bags-like the ones for sunflowers.

Today, was a lovely day in Nebraska. I am in the south-eastern corner not far from Missouri, Iowa or Kansas. In spite of a short quick trip to Kearney yesterday, tomorrow will be my third day here. I am over budget on the equipment so I am saving by staying in a modest but nice smaller motel.

Day began with a colorful sunrise, but the wispy clouds gave way to a hazy greyness. The birds I was filming did not get the orange glow washing over them. They danced and fought a bit too far away at 120 yards. I could not move but learned about this booming ground.

The small town square is centered on a stunning Courthouse. I arrived about 5 pm and used the warm light to create a feel which I will continue to use as I shoot other courthouses for this film.

Dashing west to get the sunset, I found some abandoned barns and one old corral. These may serve for some night time scenes which I have planned.

The temperature reached at least 52 degrees and while I was filming melting snow... trust me- it will be more interesting than it sounds, I heard in the distance a familiar call. The sky was a deep blue above the yellow and brown prairie grasses. Far overhead, was the first line of several. Honking in some of the most perfect V's I've ever seen, were about 300 Snow Geese. For about 20 minutes (all of which I churned in torment as my camera was locked in a timelapse which I could not change and the second camera was - yes... in the charming motel where I had left it after a late breakfast...) skein after skein of white lines with the scattered blue morph passed over at nearly 1500 feet.

Now I am a counter. I love to know how many birds are in a flock. Over many years I have honed this skill. Lock in a group, rapidly assess the number, then working in "chunks" of roughly equal amounts one keeps a count. But today, it was so beautiful. The deep blue was perfect. The flying geese were in lines and V's and following each was another. Then the waves became wider and more closely packed. The V's merged and separated, but family groups of 2-5 seemed to always stay together. WNW - direct and determined they flew. Next stop- Rainwater Basin. Looking west I realized there were a thousand birds passing over in less than a minute.

While this was not the largest single group of Snow and Ross' Geese I have witnessed , it none the less had a label under it...

MIGRATION

Oh and a sub-heading of 30,000.

Awards

Getting awards make me feel uneasy. Like I'm supposed to feel superior or something. Perhaps it is part of my era, having grown up in the 1950-60's. Perhaps it is having grown up around so many simple people in farming communities from Missouri. While I am thrilled to be recognized for my work, crowing about it, or even too much 'marketing' makes me want to find a way back to my quiet home.

What ever that thing is, I can do the public speaking part.

This week I was deeply honored to have my show on the Jocotoco Antpitta receive the distinction of having been chosen as an official selection of the Beverly Hills, California "Going Green Film Festival". I think this hit me because after all isn't Los Angeles the center of the motion picture industry? Hollywood, movie stars and all of that. I mean I am from St. Louis and film birds. I am self taught. I live in rural Montana. My neighbors are Richardson's Ground Squirrels and Red-necked Grebes.

The idea for this show came from my friend Andrew who had spent quite a bit of time looking for this bird. He saw it run from the deep, dense and wet cloud forest cover to a compost pile grab and worm and disappear. He said, " I think you can get it."

So I hired Don, spent way too much money getting ready, found an overpriced guide, and we flew to Quito. I "hedged" my bet by staying for 2 months so I could film in a bunch of great places, then adding an extension to Buenos Aires and planning another month in Argentina. Don would stay for about a month and we would film near Quito, Mindo, Cuenca, and Zamora. These are locations that appear from a map to be close by and easy to access.

We made friends with everyone, and I fell in love with Ecuador and its people. The food was fabulous and I rarely have felt more healthy. We found amazing reserves, several run by the Jocotoco Foundation, but- We did not see the Jocotoco Antpitta on our first visit to Tapichalaca.

This is like making a movie and the star doesn't show up. Suddenly, you are in a panic because there is no script... and you are speaking in Spanish while trying to rapidly figure out how to salvage your vanishing investment.

I had forgotten how hard it is to work in foreign countries.

Now I am flying to LAX. Probably no one I know will be there. And to top it off... I get to schmooze with people so I can find the funds to make a conservation-oriented TV series about the rare birds of the world.

Please- send me back to a foreign country, so I can work. My partners at Cortina can do the awards, I'll just film the birds.

Commuting part 1

My commute yesterday was not tied up in traffic. In November, I left northern Virginia after working most of the day, to drive to Cape May. I had already calculated that I would not be able to make it in time to catch the Ferry from Lewes to the Cape. So that left me one option: drive there.

This is part of my routine. My body aches from this option.

I seem to have this ability (or perversion) of driving hundreds of miles in a day to make an appointment the following morning. I neatly stack cases of gear, clothing tents and cameras into confined trunks of small hybrids just so I can get 40+ mpg. This, I tell myself, is helping to save the earth.

From Mapquest, I followed the shortest route to the interstate belt system. Living in rural Montana does Not prepare one for the concept that at 6:15 pm there are still 1,000's of people still doing this same exact thing in an urban area the size of Washington D.C. So about 2 miles from the entrance I encountered the line.

How was I to know that line- realistically- lasted for nearly 20 miles? 2 miles to get on the Beltway, and 18 miles to the exit going north into Maryland.

The quest for peace, wildlife and some level of solitude does not always simultaneously prepare one to adapt to this type of existence. Stop and start driving when conducted by a "country-friendly person" is not "urban friendly". I was victimized with because I routinely feel that it is OK to allow other people (who perhaps are taking advantage of me) cut in. People who are behind me seem to get impatient. I noted that one more than one occasion they felt the need to cut around me and wave with a certain finger upraised. Hey, I'm courteous even to them. All I wanted was a safe overpass to film this ordeal from. The thought of timelapse images of jammed highways, somehow is comforting. As if the digital capturing of this daily insanity some how makes it all better.

Eventually, the pressure of excited people wanting to join this happy throng ebbs, and space occurs between vehicles. Suddenly, movement begins.

I should mention before we move on that this concept of- listen people- of allowing space Between Vehicles, is part of creating movement. Urban people have a great deal of difficulty grasping this concept.

At the slightest sign of an opening, one of them immediately wants to fill that opening. If you think about it: this is Nature abhorring a vacuum in Hyperdrive. Behind every wheel was another Apolo Ono looking to slip into that tiny gap before speeding past into first place. The Need for Speed.

Two days ago, I began my other commute. It is a totally different: non-speed, non-pressure, non-sprint type of commute. The Marathon as a form of commuting.

New Ghost

Why has such a great bird attracted so many flakes?

Now we have another rumor of an Ivory-billed Woodpecker from someone no one knows. This is embarrassing and discouraging at best.

If I had a sighting and had evidence, I'd shut my mouth until everything was in hand and I could show the world what I had. Additionally, before I made any announcement I'd already have quietly met with all of those who would be qualified experts.

The presentation of a still photo is some level of evidence but since someone is saying "it needs to be developed" then I hope the original negatives will also be submitted so that complete verification of the image is achieved. Who took the picture actually is of little concern as long as an image is real.

After enduring 14 months in the swamp, a later divorce, and then the criticism of some who were not involved and certainly not where I was when my frustrating encounters occurred. I am tired of the rumors. Let's either get this verified (put up) or shut up.

Search for Ivory Gull -pt 1

Ivory Gull show sketch

Background memories

12 years ago, June 30, 2006, I left Venezuela and returned to the US after having spent most of the year in South America. A job in the Arctic awaited me. That was exciting. The only fare I could afford, however due to the very low pay required me to drive to Ottawa, Canada. Packing in the airport parking lot was really fun. But a few hours later, I boarded a small but modern jet and flew first to Montreal and then to Kujuuaq and Iqaluit. Finally, we boarded a small to medium sized turbo prop and passing over vast glaciers, huge fiords and rugged mountains, we began to approach the small airport at Nanisivik. A short time earlier we had vanished into cloud cover, there we remained until after several passes it was certain that the clouds were too thick. We detoured for Pond Inlet only a short distance away. Radio communication indicated that the fog was growing thicker so the airline put us into a hotel.

The next morning’s light was considerably improved. Full sunshine covered the elegant dark blue bay where Inuit men stalked seal on the huge ice shelf. By the time to head to the plane, clouds were drifting in.

Arriving in Nanisivik would still not be a piece of cake. In talking to the pilots I was invited to come up to the cockpit. From behind the bank of instruments the two young men were flying a plane that looked like it belonged in WWII. However another wall of clouds loomed ahead. Holes did appear in the layers and there was a sufficient ceiling to get us underneath that particular day.

When we got to the ground. We were all to be piled into a van and driven down the mountain 23 some miles to Arctic Bay. My gear packed in shipping cases took up a ton of room.The tundra at this latitude is quite distinct. Let me remind you that trees and any vegetation taller than your ankles are hundreds of miles to the south. Not even down in the river valleys. Here on the ridges well above the bays and inlets the vegetation is sparse. 'Fields of Rocks' is more like it. But in places the numerous beautiful wildflowers peek through. Vast carpets of spongy green mosses cover miles of stunning landscapes. Every Rock is covered with lichens forming unique sometimes colorful patterns, Overall the effect is enchanting.

High Arctic Hotels have unique feel to them, especially the ones in the remote communities like Arctic Bay. Some look like a cheap double-wide trailer. Once inside the quiet is noticeable and it becomes apparent the insulation is for the extremes. Even in mid summer the heat may be running at times.

I immediately begin to explore. Snow Buntings call from the roofs of the buildings like they were the ecological replacement for Starlings. ?! Now there is an idea! By the grey bay, a few gulls fly by. THAYER”S Gulls! Wow this is going to be fun. A group of King Eiders are flying low over the water, now crossing a patch of tundra. Along this bay and the river to the east are broad valleys filled with lush mats of tundra, miles of rich green pocked with colors of the hundreds of wildflowers. In some areas there are carpets of Arctic Cotton Grass. Above the hiker who soon disappears in the vastness of these areas, tower peak of all sizes and shapes. On many - Glaciation is readily visible. The whole valleys are very U-shaped too another indication of glaciers.

After several days of waiting, the boat captain thinks we may be able to get out of the mouth of the bay. We meet at he bay and take a walk along the gravel. Only two boats have been launched so far, the rest remain hauled out up on the dark shore. Glowing blue icebergs fill the water. The captain and his two boys prepare everything and we head out. It is only a mile of so to the place to turn west toward the narrows that lead to the outer and much larger Inlet. But ice clearly blocks the area. Huge cliffs tower on the north shore and gulls are nesting there. This is at least some solace- even though Ivory Gulls will not nest in that habitat, other species that grab my interest will. So I will have something to do .

The weather has changed so in a few more days the bay will open the captain assures me. We return to the portion of the bay near town.

Until then I take long hikes filming sandpipers, jaegers and everything I can find within about 8 miles of town. One day I carried the tripod and camera, over 6 miles out to a spot where I had found a young Long-tailed Jaeger still a grey fuzz ball and guarded by its parents. In the long summer days without night, there is plenty of time for these things but it is also a very long hike back with the gear.

Finally the mouth of the bay opens, The captain sends word to be ready the next morning.

Some current notes on this entry-

I was the lead Wildlife videographer on the first part of a massive effort to locate a Ghost. Undertaken after two remarkable sightings along a small heavily timbered river in eastern Arkansas, Cornell Lab of Ornithology secretly led this massive undertaking to document a phantom that plagued and teased us.

My Montana plates drew many comments while we were still in this secretive phase (April 2004 to May 2005) of the search for the Ivory-billed Woodpecker and all I did was tell the truth- that I was making a wildlife documentary on the swamp and its' creatures. Although I had moments of what I felt was clearly the bird, extremely nearby on more than one occasion, I was never able to get even one frame of what was there. Only once did I see anything that I was nearly convinced was this super rare Campephilus species. That moment occurred while I was canoeing out of the swamp, fighting the current at the end of just one of many long days. However, two encounters with a bird that did the characteristic "double-rap" of this genus electrified me. The remaining encounter was hard to characterize but remains the most enigmatic of all.

Just because I was unable to obtain evidence of what I experienced and certainly heard, does not mean that there was no Ivory-billed Woodpecker in this area, at least in 2004-2005.

I know many skeptics have voiced opinions of doubt and derision. All I can say is that you were not in my body when I was experiencing these moments. If we had the capability of down-loading the direct experience, I know that each and every one of you would at least go… Hmm. Because if you were able to experience my experience,

February 16, 2007

Brinkley, Arkansas:

Leaving the motel, when David Luneau calls. He is going up the Bayou and wants to know If I will join him. I slow down and agree to meet him at the famous Hwy 17 bridge. My Ford Ranger pickup truck is a familiar sight there.

While waiting for his arrival, I visit an area where multiple trees have been killed forming an ideal spot for IBWO feeding. I flush 2 American Woodcocks in transit. David arrives and we launch in his boat. We freeze in the wind and cold temperatures. In one large tree, we find a new feeding trough along Stab Lake. Could be IBWO sign. Later I head to Chamber of Commerce to suggest a viewing tower. Finally, I return to Wattensaw Refuge to spend the evening sitting quietly by the best roost hole I have seen so far. The hole is at least a full year and possibly up to three years old. It is perfectly shaped and is VERY likely one created by an Ivory-bill. I sure learned a lot in Argentina studying the closely related Magellanic Woodpecker (Campephilus magellanicus).

I position myself in my camo layers about 150 feet away in cover and by the base of a tree. I find a way to get the camo on the camera and then hunker down - waiting. The sky has layers of thin clouds reducing visibility but also a deep orange and then magenta sunset. A Pileated Woodpecker cacks deep in the forest behind, and loud crash of a tree collapsing and then silence.

Unfortunately, no birds come to this wonderful looking cavity. The Bayou slowly grows darker and I pack up for the hike to the car in the gathering dusk.