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?

Lure of Shorebirds

How can it be September?

Where did May go? Summer is not summer without the arctic, but somehow June too has vanished. How did a simple feature from Photoshop appear in my life and not only that- it became a eraser of time. The Time Tool. T3

Many years ago Edward L. Chalif, beloved by nearly all who knew him, took advantage (in a GOOD WAY) of a young boy whose parents needed some time away from his curious mind. I was dropped off at Chilmark Community Center in August of 1960. My brother was too, but due to the vanishing tool of time, duly noted above, he disappears in this story.

There were other people in the car with us also, but they are now gone. Prothonotary Warbler did not vanish. But this short story is about two shorebirds. Too large to be called sandpipers by most people these birds left an indelible impression still fresh 51 years later.

In those days, no one knew Martha's Vineyard was exclusive. We just thought it was a long ferry ride to run on the deck of The Islander. the fact that we could throw food to gulls just made it Awesome. Oops, awesome, that word did not exist in 1960.

In those days, you could begin a hike on the great south beach, and just go. One or more of the large ponds might need to be crossed with care as the drainage to the ocean could be really full and roaring. In those days, one could jump on a one speed bike and cruise for birds from Chilmark to Edgartown and back. Most of those longer bike rides came in later summers with my friend Peter. That damn time tool is at it again. Some how the period from August of 1960 to September of 1970 wants to be remembered as one huge summer.

A bad pair of binoculars was fine, too heavy or too light anything helped. 7x40 or 7x32 seemed to be quite common models and of course we only had one REAL field guide- Peterson's. Apologies Richard and Don, but when you went to a book store and asked about birds....

My binoculars were handed down from my grandfather in Missouri. Remnants of WW I. Compared to most anything of this new fangled age, they were horrible. But the invasion of products from Japan was limited to transistor radios. What's that you say? ... damn T3 again.

From Edgartown you turned south to Katama along the way various small roads most all dirt would leave the main narrow pavement. Barely 2 real lanes went all the way south until the tall dunes were the final barrier to the Atlantic. We stopped to check the ocean and the bay side, but at 8 I had seen these things, scurrying along the waves picking and picking. They were nothing special.

Piling back into the car, we passed through a thin and small woodland before emerging on a field nearby. There my dull trance was broken in the softer, late afternoon.

In a field filled with golden light, were brown flocks of birds. They were shorebirds. Not sandpipers. They looked to be in the army- determined and hurrying to eat in these fields.

Those binoculars from World War I must have been set aside. Someone had to lend me a better pair - Bausch & Lomb or perhaps a good bit of German glass. I'll never know. Because I have been talking to people about that moment ever since, it is clear and powerful- golden and green. With one brown bird and one tan one, and Eddie's voice.

Tan. Upland Sandpipers are the epitome of elegance and grace. Perhaps dancers or gymnasts of the shorebird world.

Brown. Whimbrels are the farmers- tougher than they look , but when you shake their hand you know it. So maybe steelworker of the shorebirds. They exude strength.

So in my eyes on that day long ago, how did a tan bird and a brown bird so powerfully capture my attention?

Within one binocular fields view at least one Whimbrel strode alongside one Uppie. Perhaps as close as 3 feet apart but on what seemed for that moment a parallel track, subtle differences did show through. The leg color, the head shape and color, but mostly and shockingly was the shape of the two species bills.

One short and straight- one longer and decurved. Decurved. I didn't even know the word! One yellowish with a dark tip, the other primarily dark. The head streaks on the Whimbrel and the big gentle eye of the Uppie.

Here were two birds - two species- doing about the same thing in the same location but with two very different bills to gather food with. As a young birder, this was a very important moment in my life. I could not understand why those bills were so distinctly different. I looked and asked "why?" The question burned into my brain so that I remember that moment of deep questioning, stunned in a manner which is unanswerable.

No Time tool can erase these moments.

Shorebirds -Where?

I have fingers of a klutz at times. I think it is getting worse but maybe not. But I have been asked twice today to help with -where to go for Shorebirds.

Most folks think of an ocean area, and that is not wrong. But there are a few places so exceptional that they are not to be missed. My favorite places to watch and film shorebirds in the interior include: Cheyenne Bottoms and Quivera National Wildlife Refuge both in Kansas near Great Bend; Souris and DesLacs in North Dakota, Bowdoin NWR and Freezeout Lake in Montana.

East Coastal areas must involve Texas: Bolivar Peninsula, Anhuac NWR, Osa Bay, Maine: Popham Beach and Biddeford pool, Massachussetts: Plum Island, and South Beach; in New Jersey: Brigantine NWR, and several areas near Cape May or Stone Harbor, Jamaica Bay in New York, Bombay Hook and the Rehoboth Beach area in Delaware, Indian Inlet, Assateague and Chincoteague in Coastal Maryland/ Virginia, Pea Island NWR North Carolina, St. Marks NWR in the Panhandle of Florida for the east Coast.

On the West coast, Washington, Oregon and California have a large number of exceptional shorebird areas. My favorites are Dungeness spit, Gray's Harbor; Bandon, Oregon and in California: Point Reyes, Monterrey Bay area, and Salton Sea.

There are hundreds and possibly thousands of other areas where Shorebirds can congregate, but these are ones that stand out for one reason or another in my mind after 50 years of birding.

Films, television and birders...

My jaw is still open and although my mustache partially covers the opening, I hope mosquitoes are not planning to take advantage of this situation.

As the executive walked away after momentarily stunning me with his total ignorance, I was still unable to respond with witty nor pithy nor eloquent quips.

"Birders don't watch TV", he spat out, turned and walked away.

That was all it took to disable me. And this comment from a major network is still the prevalent attitude among television executives and their advertisers. Oh, I have also been told we are cheap.

What is next? We don't buy gasoline or cars, food is simply an afterthought and shoes are never found on our feet? How is it in 2011 birders and birding is such a morass of craziness and misconceptions?

I think we all see that the misconceptions regarding birders are astonishing and persist to this day. How to clear them up is of major importance to any development in birding circles as many of the things we do and hope to accomplish in terms of conservation, depend to one degree of another on corporate support.

I guess that in spite of the fact that I have purchased more than 7 cars during my 50 years of birding and driven all of them over 200,000 miles, raised 3 children and I think we had and have beds, cooking pots, computers, cell phones and magazines, oh yes- Televisions….The fact that I have a large library of books, paintings on the wall, photo libraries, video equipment, furniture, carpets and refrigerators seem to be facts lost on advertisers.

I have been told that I tend to see things differently.

But the point is not how I see things. The point is how we are seen collectively, we being birders.

Granted, Birders have been slow to adopt video or purchase DVD's. I'd love to see figures of birders purchasing Blu-ray and High Definition equipment, because the resolution of nature is so outstanding. I foresee this as a major growth area in birding circles and devices.

Back to television, I know many birders are frustrated with the lack of educational programming, let alone birds on cable and don't even talk to me about the Networks! The fact that the ending of CBS Sunday Morning always ends with a few moments in nature reveals the truth.

There are huge segments of the nation who love to see natural history -including birds.

The fact that CBS refuses to pay anyone for the footage is debilitating to development of any industry or segment in a society which values little more than money.

I think birders love baseball, football, basketball and I'd bet that even a few of you actually watch soap operas or even Oprah. Overall, I suspect any accurate survey would reflect that we are full time, normal participants in American Society….. Ok how about our spouses, children and significant others? Maybe, they are "normal".

Our passion runs a bit differently it is true. Warm furry- MegaFauna, is the rule broadcasters live by. We find this good stuff too. But come on, we'd like to have a few more specials on megapodes of Australia or the Spinetails in South America. Ok, We'd settle for Warblers, or even, ahem, Greater Prairie Chickens. Feathers Rule!

Did you Love Opposable Chums, want to see more of Hummingbirds and revel in Life of Birds? How about March of the Penguins or Winged Migration, weren't they each special and of course, bird-centered films?

Over 300 new wildlife films are produced each year, many are entered in film festivals like the International Wildlife Film Festival. Because distribution rights are not included with these entries many never are seen again, no matter how good they are, unless you live in Missoula, Montana. There over 10,000 people flock to the films each spring.

Among my small group of producers, music videos of birds are becoming more popular and several of us have won awards or recognition for this work.

The use of Birding "video" never took off when some of the earlier "pioneers" put out some good work (eg- Large Gulls of North America) in spite of the fact that video is more like being there than anything else.

And not one major television show is currently on any cable channel or network that is dedicated to birders in this country. From a professional perspective, the show with James Curry is not on the dial and is very low end production.

When "All Bird TV" was cancelled in 1999 featuring Ken Dial of University of Montana, it was NOT cancelled due to lack of interest? It was the the third highest rated show on Animal Planet at the time. Ken and the crews were becoming better and better at what we were doing. So- No. Unfortunately the series was cancelled due to financial squabbles among the producers and Discovery. Seems chopped motorcycles are the new rage.

At Birdman Productions, we continue to accumulate footage of many species while we work on conservation shows, and plug along with a series being requested by PBS. So far we have not one corporate sponsor -this in spite of awards for the pilot show for cinematography, editing and inclusion as an official selection in 3 Film Festivals.

I remain a total optimist, because wherever we have gone, or shown our films, birders respond. Our audience surveys reflect the care we put into our productions. We know that at some point, birders will begin to get it. It being the power behind the images evening terms of superior use for identification. After all, if a "picture says a thousand words", then how rich is the information contained in a moving picture at 1080p with 7.1 surround sound?

Our films on conservation have also struck chords in birding audiences and we strive to provide important information along with beautiful images and clean sound.

Films are also a part of our heritage as birders. How many out there can still recall going to Audubon Screen Tours. Long ago I recall meeting Roger Tory Peterson, Olin S. Pettingell and Karl Maslowski. I was young and impressionable but never understood until years later how big the impression really had been.

Television and video are the new stages of evolutionary growth in birding. Soon enough, some form of these will replace the field guide as we know it. I'll be ready to help this leap occur.

Timothy R. Barksdale

Birdman Productions,

Choteau, MT & Prairie Village, KS

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.