Birding in the Internet Age

40 years ago the activity known as "birdwatching" was a relatively low-tech activity enjoyed by perhaps a couple million Americans. The activity now known as "birding" has exploded into a recreational phenomenon with an estimated 46 million Americans now taking part. This growth parallels the readily available technologies that have turned birding into both a virtual and natural adventure.

Birders spend about $32 Billion dollars annually on tools, gadgets and travel related to birding. A large chunk of that expenditure goes toward optics, the wide range of available binoculars, scopes and cameras people use to find, study and learn about birds. In the last 5 years or so, a new wave of technological accessories such as iPods and smart phones have evolved to enable birders to efficiently play back digital recordings and identify bird songs and calls in the field. Some birders even play their iPods to attract and stimulate birds in order to see them better. The practice is frowned upon among birders whose ethics dictate that the wild or natural behavior of bird should not be manipulated by human beings, especially bird watchers.

As a birder who has not adopted all this technology as yet, it can be disorienting to be joined in the field by another birder toting a digital device with 500 birds songs on it. Recently I discovered how helpful this technology can be, however, as my new partner whipped out his digital recording device to check the flight call of a passing flock of golden plovers as they passed overhead. The calls matched precisely and we had an instantly positive ID. Longtime birders know the calls of many birds by memory, but technology erases all doubt. This can be important. Birders are a notably skeptical bunch when it comes to field identification of certain species.

No single bit of technology has changed birding more than the Internet. 15 years ago birders used phone hotlines to "post" rare species that others could find with a little searching. But the process was inexact. Phone hotlines were neither interactive or "up to the minute." The Internet enables birders to document and direct fellow birders to within feet of where a bird was last sighted. Some birders upload GPS readings or Google maps to outline the correct location. During migration season, Internet-savvy birders track clouds of migrating birds via online radar. The primary tool for notification are "bird lists" posted through Yahoo! or other online user communities. The list called IBET (Illinois Birders Entertainment and Talk) works like a giant coconut telegraph, letting birders know within seconds about the sighting of a rare species.

You'd think with all this technology no birds would go unnoticed. But there are way more birds and so much turf to cover in pursuit of them that even the growing crowd of birders probably sees less than 1/100th of 1% of all the migrating birds. But that doesn't stop them from trying to catch up with every one through technological or optical means.

It would have been nice to have some of that lightning fast technology 10 years ago when I spotted a bird species never before seen in Illinois, or for that matter, most of North America. After watching an unusual bird (I knew it was not a North American species) catching moths in a roadside ditch for 10 minutes, I rushed home and called my birding friends... who posted the sighting on an early form of the IBET network. Several birders trekked out to find the bird, but too late. It was never found again. My description and drawing of the bird in flight did lead to a possible ID of a European Stonechat, a species never found in the Lower 48 states of America. Without confirmation by another competent birder, however, the sighting counts for nothing in the birding community. Close calls like these are a great disappointment following the excitement of finding a potential rare species. Nowadays I carry a digital camera with me at all times. That would have made confirmation easy. I never want to miss a chance like that again, and will probably never get one.

These days there would likely have been 20 birders on site within 15-20 minutes. That's how large and responsive the birding community has grown. When rare species show up anywhere in America, the Internet lights up with notifications running from list to list across America. You never know who might want to travel to Iowa from Illinois to view that Fork-tailed flycatcher blown north by a spring storm. Every year when hurricane season hits, birders in central Illinois do so-called pelagic (sea-going) trips on large lakes downstate following the hurricane. Ocean birds blown north by a hurricane from the Gulf of Mexico often hang out on these large bodies of water for weeks. Sometimes hurricane birds get blown all the way to Chicago. Almost any large storm from any direction holds potential for carrying in birds from faraway places. To birders, these anomalies make birding interesting and fun, like a large-scale game on an endless map of lakes, woods and fields. My imagination struggles to comprehend how an oceangoing bird from the Pacific Coast winds up paddling around in Lake Michigan.

Birds seems to wander out of their home territories all the time. Some just seem to get lost or develop a case of wanderlust. Now that there are more birders than ever, these wandering bird urchins are found on an increasing basis, changing our perceptions in many cases as to what birds really do during their lifetimes.

Sparrows and buntings from the western Great Plains have been seen in Chicago's Lincoln Park, for example. Birders know hotspots for birds like the Magic Hedge in Montrose Park along Chicago's lakefront are always good for unusual migrants. When rarities show up in hotspots like these, birders from all over the state pass the word through IBET and "the hunt is on."

I have personally been the beneficiary of several great sightings from Internet bird list notifications. When a rare Sharp-tailed sandpiper (a largely Eurasian species) showed up on the Fox River in Illinois late one summer, IBET broadcast the sighting and countless birders were able to find its exact location thanks to a description of the birds position posted along with the sighting.

The Internet phenomenon does have its downsides. Recently a rare bird called the Yellow Rail turned up in a marsh 35 miles west of Chicago. As I live close to the preserve where it was seen, I decided to head out early on a Sunday morning to see if I could find the bird. It had been flushed and confirmed present just the day before on IBET. When I arrived there was already one birder beating the bushes, and I met another trudging through a weed field on the way in. In the next 40 minutes more than 25 other birders rolled in...until there were about 30 people trouncing around by 8 a.m.! People wandered in through the dew-soaked fields like they were headed to a natural version of Field of Dreams. If you post it, they will come...

Long lines of birders formed to flush the elusive rail (a bird about 7 inches long) from its tall, grassy hiding place. This became too much of a scene for me, and I wandered away to get my scope and go home. Just then the bird flushed in front of the group, who exclaimed in unison as they saw its precious identification mark of white on its secondary feathers. Then it was gone again.

The group formed another tight knot of people bearing scopes and holding binoculars close to their chins as they waited yet another sighting. Then someone heard another bit of rustling underfoot. Murmurs of "there it is!' and "I can hear it" broke from the group. Then someone disappointedly proclaimed: "Aaaah. It's just a vole." Nothing but a fascinating little mouselike creature that could very well have been rare itself. But our attentions are focused on that which is notably rare and famous. The bird world has its celebrity flair as well.

By the time the "vole incident" occurred I'd moved 50 yards away and was headed back to the car. I studied the group from a distance. They were all well-meaning, nice people, eager and hopeful for a rare sighting. Many had satisfied looks on their faces after finding the bird. Having seen what was likely the same rail in silhouette at dawn, I contented myself with the less clear and dramatic memory of seeing the bird out of the corner of my eye, and only for a moment. It could well have been the much more common Sora rail, but I did not care, being content instead to accept this more humble offering and hope to see a Yellow Rail under circumstances that were less manic and more natural.

Overall it is a nice thing birding has reach such popularity. As a birder who was often ridiculed his interest by friends as a youth, I never expected so many people take up this supposedly odd activity. But it really is a true joy, full of endless variety and satisfaction at learning and discovering a part of nature that is compelling and diverse.

I'm largely glad there are 46 million people these days watching birds. Except when technology runs over the glory of discovery. Then I long for the good old days...even if meant I seldom got to share a rarity with anyone else.

http://www.birding.com/

http://www.mountainnature.com/Birds/

http://www.americanbirding.org/