Covid -1

Based on my experience in Montana's long winters, being closed in over the intense storms from the Rocky Mountain Front and the need to be supplied for periods of time, over the next month I will try to build a series of posts which I hope can contribute to a period of mindful confinement.

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.

The Garden of Albert

Dear Friends,

I am a life long fan of baseball. This began almost as early as my even deeper love of Birds and Nature. Having grown up in St. Louis, my affinity is for the Cardinals. So, I have been caught up in the recent events surrounding the change in allegiance of one of baseballs recent great players- Albert Pujols.

If you don't know, Albert has had 11 years as a Cardinal and those years have been quite remarkable. In fact, if he can continue to do what he has done for let's say 8-10 more years then he is a lock for the Baseball Hall of Fame.

St. Louis has long had a great reputation for being the best place to play baseball. The fans are great and widespread. Even though it is much smaller than many other cities, the surrounding states still have huge bases of Cardinal fans, so you might be sitting next to someone from Texas, Montana or Mississippi - whose grandfather taught them to love the Cardinals. Before 1956 - there were no other teams west of the Mississippi River except St. Louis. It has been referred to as: Baseball Heaven.

In case you missed it the Cardinals won the World Series in 2011- and did so in a totally classic manner. The drama was EPIC. Down to the last strike twice, the Cardinals team rallied in the face of certain defeat to win the team's 11th World Championship.

Against this wonderful storybook end of the year- Albert Pujols became a free agent and left to take $254 Million and move to the Los Angeles area to the Anaheim Angels. With incentives, he could make up to $280 Millions.

The problem came in when He said- "I want to be a Cardinal for life." He also said, " It is not about the Money".

This is only a problem because another of the all time great players was also a Cardinal. His name is Stan Musial. There are not enough words on the planet to sufficiently nor adequately describe Stan. Let's just begin with Loyal and Humble. Stan once rejected an offer of over $100,000 per year (and in those days that was a HUGE amount to pay a baseball player) to stay with the Cardinals. But others have thoroughly written about Stan Musial - and he has been called "Baseball's Perfect Knight". Wow.

There are only a few people in this modern age who have chosen loyalty over money recently. Because we often have negative associations with "the Big Apple", I think it is fair to say that ironically, several of those heroes are New York Yankees. The other great city where baseball is treated rather royally happens to be New York.

Now the biggest difference between the Yankees and the Cardinals happens to be in revenue. The Cardinals are the classic underdog- with about 1/3rd the revenue of the Yankees and it is reflected in the payroll of New York at roughly $300 Million each year versus St. Louis at $100 Million a year. So it in some ways - this discrepancy reflects a David - Goliath situation.

Given all the other complicated stuff involved- here is my response to some comments made by the great Manager of the Cardinals Tony LaRussa- who (by the way)- retired after winning the World Series....

Dear Tony,

Baseball Heaven. The Apple of money. Living in Bliss. Suddenly Cast out into Darkness. The benevolent God (Fans) make this paradise possible. The had seen the perfect Knight in shining armor… and He was called Stan.

Albert Pained? He should be pained. The Fans are pained.

In this time of economic hardship, just like in other hard times, a sport -an entertainment- a diversion from our daily grind of hardship and disillusionment -our own paths of challenge in which we nobly work for good) rakes in the Almighty dollar. But to make it worse it has become the biggest cash Cow of them all.

I work in television production- If I were writing a fictional story for young people, I would want an ending that turned out for the best for everyone. Maybe even the hero would do the right thing over time. But in reality the hero has to go through his own set of stupid errors. He has to overcome the evil owner.. (Oops). He has to be seduced by a greater evil, - his wife has to say stupid things because she is spoiled and lost touch to the point where she thinks athletes "deserve" more than other people. They would leave the garden where life had been good to them, and they were loved by all. They would go to a place where shallowness and illusion surround them. Then the rest of the story would (and will) write itself.

Jesus was not all about the money. So maybe Albert is figuring out where the ego and the spirit each live. Life is a path of learning.

I do not believe Albert is a liar. I only believe he is surrounded by many who want to profit because of and by his talent. Lozano may also be a good person or he may be the Snake. Who knows today? But by the end of this story, where the hero is ejected through his own stupidity from the Garden of Eden…. listening to the whispers of the Snake… He is told "he is an Angel." Only to see his production decline and the God of LaLa land become scornful, He may long to return to the Garden. Perhaps the path is gone, or the gates are closed. Perhaps, a new chosen one has arisen…. ? Well have to see how this story gets written.

Hmm… there may be an Epic story here…. Let's Call it - "The Garden of Albert."

Til then ...

I'll move back to birds on my next post. It is a VERY Birdy Winter!

Cold Day in Arkansas

Brinkley, AR

It has been so long ago, I am no longer sure who took this picture. I know it was taken on February 16, 2007.

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 Truck is a familiar sight there. Montana plates drew many comments while we were still in the secretive phase (2004) of the search for the Ivory-billed Woodpecker.

While waiting for his arrival, I visit a nearby area where multiple trees have been killed forming an ideal spot for IBWO feeding. But as is now normal, there is now clear sign. Flushed 2 American Woodcocks in transit. We freeze in the wind and cold temperatures. New feeding trough in a tree along Stab lake. Could be IBWO sign. After hours in the bayou, with no real sign, we return to the landing.

Later, I head to Chamber of Commerce to suggest a viewing tower on each side of the bayou. When I was stationed in the 85 foot crane for a month. The goal was to be up high enough to spot the bird flying to and from foraging areas. I would get to the crane a bit after first light, bringing coffee food and camera batteries and tape.

The crane platform rises on a hydraulic arm up into the air about 85 feet. While one is above most of the tree tops, the tallest cypress and tupelo rise to about 115 feet. We needed a taller crane or a tower that would put us at the tops of all the trees. To perfectly cover the bayou so nothing gets by us, ideally two towers would be constructed on either side of the mile wide bayou. If observers can see across to each other then, no Ivory bill would fly between them.

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. But what does it mean? There had been a sighting by a reliable biologist not far from this location about a month earlier.

In Argentina, studying the closely related Magellanic Woodpecker (Campephilus magellanicus) I filmed the nesting cavities and learned a lot by spending time following the birds on some day while sitting quietly near the nest on others. Campephilus woodpeckers use nest cavities which are oval in shaping. This turns out to be a significant factor. You can eliminate the vast majority of nest cavities of most woodpeckers.

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, a loud crash of a tree collapsing and then silence.

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

Alaska Summer 2

This is an entry from my journal of a few years ago. For me, it brings back a distinct fondness for Alaska and the huge open tundra. I hope you will enjoy this entry, I'll post one about Adak tomorrow and then the Teshekpuk one later.

May 31- Anchorage- No birds- just errands and planning the logistics of how to survive on the North Slope. Training for being on Oil company leased land for 3 days. We spent 12 incredibly boring hours listening to a guy from Oklahoma or Arkansas tell the class- really stupid things that were somehow supposed to be related to actual education.....

Thank God that in a few days we'll be in Barrow the largest city on the North Slope, but away from the civilized world. Each road out of town simply ends.

Ok, go get the Alaska map. I'm going to give you a quick course in Alaska geography. Because you may be confused by the terms I have been using.

Find Anchorage on the southern coast- but inland along Cook Inlet. This is the biggest city in Alaska and the base from which we are operating. It is the southern terminus for the Alaska Highway. Since I have been to Alaska 5 times, the Long House Hotel has always been a good spot, located near the airport, nice large rooms and the prices are fine too. This is where I can receive e-mail but not send except from one account. Back to the Geography.

Straight north on the coast of the Arctic Ocean, you should see a little peninsula at the very northern most part of Alaska. That is Point Barrow and a few miles west and a tiny bit south is the community of Barrow. Because it is where it is, some rare birds from Asia show up there, but birders started going there, following early ornithologists, to find the nesting birds that show up at Barrow which are are difficult to find in other places. Some of those are Snowy Owl, Pomarine Jaeger, Spectacled Eider, Steller's Eider and Red Phalarope.

To the east, Deadhorse is on the Arctic Ocean, but a few miles inland from Prudhoe Bay. That is the famous and infamous Oil drilling area on the Arctic Ocean. This section of the tundra is located more easterly from Barrow. To the east of Prudhoe/Deadhorse is the enormous Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. The refuge is mostly hills ridges and mountains with a narrow strip of the very ecologically rich tundra along the coast.

If your map shows mountains you'll see a range of mountains running roughly east -west inland from the coast This is referred to as the Brooks Range. Everything 'sloping' north to the Arctic Ocean is called the North Slope. Much of this entire area has large deposits of oil underneath. Extracting it is very difficult... and the tundra is VERY sensitive as 9 months of the year it is frozen.

On one island, St. Lawrence, many years ago, Katie and I found tank tread marks in the tundra that had been made in World War II, but they seemed to have just been made -- like a week before. This was in 1974. So things only can grow very slowly and this limits the ability to recuperate from things like OIL SPILLS. Last Year BP spilled about 205, 000 gallons of Raw Crude oil on the tundra near Prudhoe. That area is now dead for many many years... perhaps a 1000, 10,000 or 100,000 -- who really knows.

From there, (Prudhoe/Deadhorse) in an almost a straight line back to Barrow, you can see the Colville Delta and then a big round lake very near the coast. That is Teshekpuk lake. if you can't see it on the maps then google it on line. That is where Nick and I will be doing the long camping thing. We will be in the SE quadrant.

Ok that is enough Geography, but I wanted you to understand the vastness of Alaska and how I am so very fortunate to see so much of it.

3rd June- Barrow- My second trip up here. Barrow lies at the edge of the coastal plain. The northernmost part of Mainland North America is the point- about 4 miles north-east of us. Point Barrow is the dividing "line" between the Chuchki and the Beaufort Sea.

Night is something that is really not occurring at this time of year. Daylight on the island is really limited much more by the heavy clouds. When we leave here we will be back in Anchorage and there we may have a bit of night. Usually I'm too tired to be up that late here. On the North Slope, we are supposed to fly to Deadhorse, then a tiny cabin in the Delta of the Colville River and finally Teshekpuk Lake closer to Barrow. Up there it is 24 hour daylight until August 6 or 7th. The Sun never sets. So your body changes to this crazy energy machine that finally says --- "Hey I'm tired... what time is it and you look at the watch and it is 12:40 AM - 2:00 Am or something Crazy like that... suddenly you are Exhausted. When you get back to camp you collapse until the blazingly bright sun wakes you up at like 9 or 10 Am and the sun is directly overhead.

June 7th- In an hour, we are about to leave Barrow for Deadhorse. We are expecting to have less open vistas and much more of the development landscape.... We then fly into a remote area of the Tundra. Oil has been found at several areas near the lake-Teshekpuk. Theories are being talked about very openly about the strategy devised by Big Oil and how the proposed move into the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge was just a ploy to let them get into this area near Teshekpuk. The BAD NEWS is that the coastal plain is MUCH wider here and consequently much more productive for birds and wildlife. So the potential destructive effect of Oil development and the drilling, pipelines etc, etc, etc.. would be Much more of a problem.

In our training in Anchorage there was a MAP of the development of pads and pipelines on both sides of Prudhoe Bay. They have pretty much created a spider web of industry in an area which would take 10,000 years to heal from any spills. And of course, we watched the Chairman of BP talk about his company saving a tiny pitance of money by leaving out corrosion inhibitors in the pipeline. Result : 200, 000 gallon spill on the tundra... 10,000 years....

So we have a BIG job in front of us to capture enough beauty in 30 days to make a compelling documentary on this area so Americans will be informed about the coming rape Big Oil is conducting up here.

The Worlds we choose

A few days ago, we received another very generous pledge to this film.

What a wonderful crazy world. “We”. Who are We? A big world full of 7 Billion people.

What to do? What position should I take? Will they make it? All of us deal with 1000’s of decisions each day.

Today, “we” have 9 or 10 hours to do something.

There is no time to hesitate.

We are showing $12,870. Outside of our project we received two $5,000 pledges that are on the way through our partner American Bird Conservancy. I wished that those were able to come through the project as it would have inspired others earlier. But it is still so very much appreciated too.

Today, we can take action. I can’t go back to the Midwest Birding Symposium where hundreds of bird folks were gathered to pass out postcards. Everyone is now gone. Meanwhile---

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/jordandowney/thankskilling-sequel-horror-comedy-feature-film?ref=live

I still have so many questions, some of which I will never get an answer for.

Why do we not fund things that are meant to be wholesome and wonderful? How can “we” fund Thankskilling Turkey? But superimpose for a moment that our Kickstarter campaign is at this moment over $50,000 short of the goal.

So our society chooses a false or a relief valve-reality instead of working to do something. It is work but it is also so very fulfilling to see things like prairies being restored.

What kind of world do you choose?