Vision of Fuzz

The First Bird-

In the spring of 1956, My parents moved from Brentwood further west into what was then a rather rural part of St. Louis county. Very close to the Principia entrance off of Clayton Road, was a narrow gravel road heading south between two farms. One farm was known for it's orchards and the other had a large cornfield. Honey Locusts sprouted along the edges of the road easement. The rise of the subdivision was about to begin but that is another story.

The house was built in the somewhat typical geometric forms of that time. Architects were trying new shapes and ours was a two story box at that time. The yard was quite rough after the construction phase and I'm not certain that there was ever anything like sod laid down.

The house was situated on a south facing slope, well above a creek which ran under a small stone bridge and the road which crossed there, led up a steep hill to my grandparents. Along that road, by the creek, grew 3 enormous American Elms, several cottonwoods and both White and Red Oaks. Carpets of Daffodils replaced all ground cover in the springs in that creek bottom.

Each farm in those days had a woodlot and some pasture. We were fortunate to have a neighbor who had allowed his pasture to become completely overgrown with wild flowers and multiflora rose. One section of that field held a bramble patch of black raspberries where I have always thought the local cottontail rabbits originated from the burrows which poked through the soil. A large mature woodlot to the east and one smaller, younger to our west and we were sandwiched in a paradise of habitat. Woods, fields, creeks and in the pasture to the south a horse to grow up with- to explore it all. Thousands of acres of rural St. Louis county- still very unspoiled - beckoned.

Wedged into these early memories which include PlaySchool on the Farm (also 1956) is a clear and focused one.

Outside the east door of the house, which entered the kitchen, and slightly toward the creek was an outside faucet. In the extremely hot and dry summer of 1956, sources of water were certainly needed by wildlife. Being quite new, a washer in the faucet had still not been seated properly. So below the lip, a small pool of fresh water rippled due to the ever present drip.

We were inside and I believe, for some reason, that it was August. My younger brother was walking well and I was all of 4 years old in my cowboy hat.

Dad and mom were both near the door and in an urgent but hushed voice "Boys, boys come quick and see…" My brother was in front of me and peeked around the rim being supported by Mom. I recall squeezing over him and peering around the edge too.

Some moments become exaggerated over time, but this one has now taken on an attribute of clarity and focus, as if I were seeing the moment for the first time through binoculars. There is nothing else but the small pool of water, male and female Bobwhite Quail and nearly a dozen tiny balls of legs and golden fuzz. Out of that were cute, dark eyes and sharp little bills drinking and refreshing. Brown and shimmering heat.

There is not an end to that particular moment and I've had that memory for many many years stimulated by the strong sense of looking over my brother. That one sense and the lingering power of the early wonder and thrill of birds have never left me.

Timothy R. Barksdale

3 August, 2012

Changes- more and more

I confess, excessive change can be difficult. In the case of bird names and the taxonomic order of birds, I am downright conservative. I had difficulty in making the transition from Marsh Hawk to Northern Harrier. So the genus Circus stayed the same and the Latin is not my problem. I'm a "Nostalgia-ista." So when I tell you I loved the genus Dendroica, don't take that completely wrong. Understanding what made Dendroica distinct from Vermivora and Oporornis (among others) helped me become a much better birder. This was especially true in my teenage years when my real summer girlfriends were shorebirds.

On the heels of the AOU's latest pronouncement, there will be plenty of others who can go through the lists with you and massage that for you. I am here to hold your hand. I am the empathetic father who comforts you and defends your feelings that change is hard... while also pushing you back out into the field.

So take a hug and slap on the back - it is time to understand what is going on, and that there is going to be a Bunch More of this before we are finished chopping up field guides.

The AOU has made numerous changes in both taxonomy and nomenclature since I first picked up a field guide in about 1962. Two years earlier I had been lured into beginning birding and I had snapped at the bait.

Back then Peterson came in hardback and was THE field guide. In fact, it was the ONLY field guide I knew of. Roger TORY Peterson-please.

I think it was 1964, when the earth shattering Golden Guide came out with a range map placed with the bird, all color illustrations, and the most important foreshadowing in the field guide- sonograms. Although Roger had great poetic descriptions of bird songs ("Old Sam Peabody"), the buzzy trill of Clay-clored Sparrow could now be visually described in full non-anthropomorphic glory. The pacing of a song could be visually compared and the thin wispy call of Cape May Warbler was easily seen why many hearing impaired birders can not hear it at all.

Song was out of the closet, in terms of importance. It was obvious because of placement and design of the book itself. The importance of understanding the differences of songs, calls and even chip notes was being put right next to range and the key distinction of plumage and shape. This was and still is, a monumental shift. Chan Robbins put himself in the Birding Hall of Fame in one move. Checkmate.

But since those days, the names and placements have been up-rooted. Baltimore and Bullock's Orioles did a close dance, merged into one and then divorced so to speak- being moved back to full species. Thankfully, we lost a pitiful name like: Northern Oriole. The bad news is that we are going to be seeing the greatest changes ever in the next few years. Be ready, dear birders, to tear the pages out and shuffle. Mitochondrial DNA.

In most species, and especially true in birds, mtDNA is inherited solely from the mother. The sequences of the building blocks of DNA spells out a signature that closely defines a species and its distinctness. As genetic sequences are being unravelled, we are able to much more easily understand the relationship between species, because we can easily compare these sequences of this critical type of gene. That fact that mtDNA is faithfully passed along by one parent is critical. This is a tool which ornithologists simply did not have back in the day. This comparison of the DNA sequences has become a mainstay of modern Ornithology.

The examination of mtDNA allows a new generation of field ornithologists an unparalleled opportunity to examine the relatedness of disjunct populations- like never before. Now, a group of interbreeding birds that sing differently from another group, and live in relative isolation can be quite accurately be analyzed for genetic differences and then judged to the merits of how different is this group from the other? The accuracy of this new data is astonishing and will change the way we have looked at birds- again.

Coupled with behavior, including habitat use, and the songs and other sounds that birds make during their intense lives, mtDNA can really put the bird world into an order which can hopefully at least, then become a long standing stable phylogenetic order. Phylogeny simply allows biologists and Ornithologists to spell out the evolutionary relationships among the over 10,000 species of birds... and growing. So how growing you ask?

That is a reason for joy and also confusion.

The opening of this door into sequencing of mtDNA will give us a look like never before into the previous secrets of bird species relationship. Be prepared for an enormous increase in the number of species in South America, Africa, Asia and even smaller areas like island groups, where the effect of isolation has long been understood. I have been warned that an area like the Phillipines where isolated groups of many species have now been looked at- could almost double in numbers. So if you are a lister and love to travel keeping track of all those "field identifiable birds" and have paid closer attention to the forms which are distinct because of song and subtle differences, you may be ready to benefit.

The rest of us just have a lot of work to do, new names to learn, relationships to understand and who knows what 15,000 or even more birds might stimulate. This could be especially important in terms of bird conservation.

The Ornithologists should be thrilled having so many new names to brutally slaughter into blandness. I know it is work, oh fellow Ornithologists, to have to research the first use of a name applied to a taxonomic unit which is now understood to be a distinct genetic species. But please.... Northern Flicker?

We can all do better.