One Thousand Posts of BB&B (We Don't Need Their Scum)

Look at these unripe young nerds. Here is Cassidy and myself in Anza Borrego camping out with the 2008 BUOW crew, probably at a high %, a few months before the inaugural BB&B post in 2008. That was a good night. Little did we know that our lives would eventually interwine so much that we would eventually become blog bros.

We have arrived. We are here. We have really done it. We have reached the summit, planted our flag. The peak has been bagged...scumbagged, that is. This filthy, rarefied air is incredible.

The milestone has been reached. With this post, the bizarre bird blog nobody asked for, the bird blog nobody thought they needed, the bird blog of a generation has reached #1000.

One thousand posts...this is not something I take lightly. I'm not even sure how to go about writing this post, but clearly some kind of retrospective is in order...so why don't we go back to the beginning, before post #1. Life has changed greatly since we first launched in 2008, when I took this sacred blog oath:

"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children one child. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men birders. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch this blog, for this night and all the nights to come."

If this sounds strangely similar to the vows of the Night's Watch, it is purely coincidence I assure you. There was no Game of Thrones television series in 2008, after all, heheheh....

Right. Since BB&B burst forth into the Birdosphere, I have seen about twice as many species of birds, made many new friends, began and ended The Perpetual Weekend (what is dead may never die), visited and worked in some fantastic places, started a family. On a smaller, blogular scale, BB&B has acquired a coauthor, the singular Cassidy Grattan, who can write better than any bird blogger out there. I have become a better birder, leveled up with better gear and scraped together some rudimentary skills at taking bird photos. We have conducted a bunch of surprisingly good and readable interviews, started the enchanting Human Birdwatcher Project, and offered you Exclusive Birder Coverage that could be found nowhere else.

What has always set apart BB&B from the rest of the Birdosphere was not our love of birding and enthusiasm in discussing birds, but our willingness to take on birders themselves, their behaviors and tendencies, their follies and failures. Unlike most blogs, who will have you think that birders are the most pleasant group of people on earth populated with amiable novices thirsty for knowledge to be dispensed by steadfast, infalliable experts, BB&B resolved from the beginning to not blow smoke up your ass. You, beloved reader, deserve better than that. Our willingness to shine a light on the dark side of birding, to be the light that brings the dawn, is what cemented iconoclast status for BB&B.

It made us Birding Heroes.

In 2009 I had the great fortune of going to Midway Atoll to volunteer for USFWS. I can't even really begin to describe that experience in a little caption (you can check the BB&B nascent 2009 archives for our Midway coverage) but overall it was brilliant. Laysan Albatross is known as the flagship bird there and the love they get is deserved.

In 2010 I again hooked up with USFWS, this time spending the summer on Buldir Island in the western Aleutians. Unlike Midway, where there were dozens of people around and folks coming and going regularly, for most of the time it was just 5 of us on the whole island. Like Midway, the seabird situation was nothing short of stunning. These are Crested and Least Auklets, which would form giant murmurations. Auklet murmuration > starling murmuration.

Or Birding Anti-Heroes? Uncertain am I.

But that is where the uncertainty ends. Now, 1,000 posts later, I know birders now more than ever. My finger is on the pulse. For years we have preached our sermons, spread the tenants of good birding. You have listened, you have learned, although some were reluctant to face The Truth. BB&B has always been strong enough to hold a mirror up to the birding community though, where we have always spoke truth to power.

This is the way.

And who holds the power of birding? Sure, you could say it is The Bird Police, The eBird Reviewer, The Field Guide Author, The AOS North American Checklist Committee. Perhaps it is the so-called "Birding Elite", or the mysterious and obscene Great Ornithologist Felonious Jive. Perhaps it lies with other birding power brokers such as Bourbon, Bastards, and Birds.

In 2011 I connected with USFWS for the third and final time, but did the opposite of going to a North Pacific island...I went to North Dakota to work with Piping Plovers. In addition to spending a lot of time with plovers (which had a horrible breeding season due to region wide flooding) I spent many hours embedded with grassland birds. Baird's Sparrow is a very enjoyable species to come across while on the clock. Photographed on private property in NW North Dakota.

In 2012 I took my first trip to Costa Rica, with Dipper Dan, Frank and Stilt. Hella lifers. One of the fairly common birds that had a big impact on me was the Golden-hooded Tanager. I know they aren't the most facemelting tanager out there but they they struck a nerve nonetheless. Photographed at what is now known as Dave and Dave's Nature Park in the Sarapiqui area.

But they are just the beginning. Birding power is so much more than those few people...it is all around us. It is, in many respects, the status quo. Power is wielded in mansplaining, obsessive compulsion to detail at the expense of the big picture, fixation on hybrids, the growing reliance on the Merlin App to make identifications. Power is reporting a MEGUH with little or no detail, causing widespread Fear and Loathing and sometimes Panic. Power is spamming listservs and FB groups for "likes" and web traffic...how embarrassing. Power is whining, entitlement and butthurt. Power is the need to be Right at all costs. Power is someone wrongly telling you that you misidentified a bird, and power is stringing. Even photographers wield power over birders...just the other day I was sitting at the edge of a pond, off trail, minding my own business taking some Bufflehead pictures. A photographer walks right up to me, between me and the birds, causing them to scatter. Keep in mind that to do this had to go out of her way, and also have not the faintest idea she was being a huge floppy dick. She asks me if I had seen any Bufflehead. Incredulously, I motion to the group of Buffleheads behind me that are now swimming away. She looked confused and responded with "I don't think that's what they are". I walked away in disgust...she could have her Non-Buffleheads. And yes, the now legendary Santa Clara Stringer was also a photographer, she apparently did not even own binoculars. But I digress, the open feuding between birders and photographers should be a post in and of itself...

In 2013 I was lured back to North Carolina for the inevitable OBX pelagic trip, as up until then I had seen hardly any species of Atlantic seabirds. That situation has thankfully been rectified. Trindade Petrel was a huge unexpected bonus bird, something I wasn't even hoping for, and one of multiple lifers.

In 2014 we took advantage of the landlord's vacay home he had in Todos Santos, Baja California Sur, and rented it out for a week or so. It was my first and so far only time in the southern part of the Baja Peninsula. Though not strictly a birding trip the birding was good and I learned that Xantus's Hummingbirds are awesome. Photographed in Todos Santos.

What is the common denominator here? These are all abundant traits and habits in birders (and photogs) that serve to turn off people from the birding community, to make the rest of us want to disengage from this scene of sorts altogether. People can be turned off to birds altogether, especially those right on the verge of being potentially hooked on birding. So while true power may look to you like a bird cop saying the record you submitted should be rejected, in reality it takes on many and varied forms.

BB&B was not the first blog to call out birders, to ridicule them (just think about us for a moment...we are asking for it), nor is BB&B the only one to mock them in the birdosphere (I don't think we've ever gone this far). I cannot take credit for that, but if you are reading this now you probably realize that our willingness to confront what is wrong with birding has really resonated with many BB&B readers. To that end, I believe we have been doing something Right all these years...perhaps we were needed after all.

2015 was the year of MAYNERAYGE. Spruce Grouse was one of my top target birds of the trip and we finally found one after putting quite a bit of effort. Hanging out with buddies and this relatively fearless, crippling bird is still my favorite grouse experience of all time. Photographed at Boot Head Preserve in Lubec, Maine.

In December of 2016 I made my last big birding trip before fatherhood consumed me. Dipper Dan, The Eggman and I went to Puerto Rico for Caribbean goodness and endemicos. It was not the birdiest trip but we did well with target birds and had many soul-satisfying views of the lovable Puerto Rican Tody. Photographed at Bosque Estatal de Guanica.

In 2017 I was lucky enough to see the Holy Grail of Vague Runts, the Ross's Gull. Out of all the rarities I have seen (and there have been some great ones), this one is on another level. When I think about the time in the setting sun I was lucky enough to spend with the doomed bird, the timeless Binary Sunset plays in my mind. We may never see its like again, and things certainly have never been the same. Photographed in Half Moon Bay, CA.

So much has transpired since post #1, when I took that first step into a larger world. BB&B has gone on to change lives, and I say that not with hyperbole, or for effect; we are in the real talk portion of this post. BB&B is now The Great Communicator of the birding world, The Tastemaker, The Taker of Temperature, the Birding Messiah at the top of Mount Olympus...ok that actually was a lot of hyperbole. What I should say is that I am proud of what we have done here over the years, and humbled that anyone gave a shit. It is with Great Honor and Immense Humility that I can say I've actually made friends because of this ridiculous blog.

TO ALL MY FRIENDS, who read BB&B (and even the ones who don't), you are loved. Thanks to Cass who has made so many great posts for BB&B over the last few years. Thanks to everyone who has offered their couches, spirits and company while I was on the road. Thanks to everyone who has invited me on birding trips, or have gone along on mine. Thank you to all whom I still owe hjs too, sorry to keep you waiting, I am in your debt. Thanks to Billy for not only understanding that I am a bird addict, but for enabling my habit...and for being a great mom to Annie, who just the other day said, unprompted in any way, "I love birds". That remains to be seen, but there is hope.

Most of all, thanks to Felonious Jive, The Great Ornithologist. I could not have done this without you, bro. You are a truly great birder, a real BROrnithologist. You are my ride or die.

You are my everything.

In April of 2018 I birded the Upper Texas Coast for the first time. The winds and weather were with us, as the lulls in migration were usually short and the birding generally varied between very good and absolutely fantastic. I got to see multiple Swainson's Warblers, which was a lifer and my only lifer for the whole year. Photographed at Sabine Woods.

In January of 2019 Billy, Annie and I made our way to Belize. It was our first international trip together. I won't claim it was the smoothest trip (traveling with a toddler is challenging) but from a purely birding perspective the itinerary delivered as hoped and overall it was very successful. Yucatan Jay was one of dozens of lifers. Also, Annie still occasionally tells me she wants to go to the jungle, so I think it left a good impression on her. Photographed at Crooked Tree.

What lies ahead for BB&B? The impossibilities are endless. It will likely be a long time before I get to post as often as I would like again. Seriously though, I need to thank you readers who I don't know well, or at all, which is most of you. Thanks to everyone who has been a friend of the blog over the years, left supportive comments here or on FB or IRL, has ambushed me while birding and told me the blog is good...or just absolutely punished me, I should be grateful for that too. I never thought I would get recognized by random strangers in the field because of BB&B, especially since I hardly post photos of myself. I really do appreciate all the love I've gotten doing this...I've never done this in an attempt to make money, promote some shitty book about a stupid big year, sell my photos or try to get people to try and sign up for some tour I'm guiding on. I bird for the sake of birding, I blog for the sake of blogging. Many bird bloggers have jumped the blogship over the years, but I intend to keep the old ways alive. BB&B will continue to be the shield that guards the realms of birders, and our watch has not yet ended.

See you next time!

P.S. DON'T WORRY I STILL LOVE BOURBON TOO

20 Years In The Game: Never Stop Birding...Sentimental HJs...Birds Remembered

Look at all these nerds. Although I am currently retired from bizarre field jobs, they have done a lot for me (and my life list). After the long and glorious LBJ days came to an end in Humboldt County, this was my first job...slavishly censusing Burrowing Owls for Jeff Manning (of "Two Jeffs One Cup" fame) and his mysterious dog Palouse in the Imperial Valley. Those times were good times, and things have never been the same.

As a birder, this month was special for me. Not because I achieved any sort of listing milestone or saw a particularly rare bird (groan), but because I realized that I've now been birding for 20 years. Of course there are a lot of birders out there who have been birding that long (and substantially longer), but I would wager that most of them are not 32. Let's face it...those people are old. OLD. One day I will probably be OLD as well, but other than an increasingly large beer gut and a decreasing amount of hair, I feel pretty good about myself, and I intend to enjoy the waning days of youth.  At any rate, this is truly an anniversary of an incredibly nerdy magnitude, and really, really embarrassing.

When I started birding as a stupid 12-year old, once I started it never occurred to me that I would ever stop birding. It was too good, even if I was doomed to be a nerd for the rest of my life. I became a bird addict, a depraved junkie who just cannot get enough...maybe not the kind who would give an HJ in a back alley in exchange for a life bird...ok FULL DISCLOSURE I actually invented that whole bird-hj bartering system and that is totally me. Buddies, I'm still waiting for all those HJs...

Right. Buddies. While I don't have the endless financial resources that some have to pour into their state and county lists (surely there is something better to do with that $$$...or is there?), I have made lots of friends on the way. And friends, to a birder, are worth more than any Code 5 rarity. Birders, as I'm sure you have noticed, don't have many friends, due to the weirdness in their brains and debilitating lack of social skills. Luckily somewhere between 12 and 32 I managed to trick some people into liking me and now I have many a buddy. So now when I run into an old friend at a bar, they greet me joyous cries of "Number 7!", whether they are a birder or not. I have a girlfriend, Booby Brittany, who forced us to chase a Little Bunting last winter because she knew my soul would shrivel up and die if I didn't (she also has a thing for Sibes, though). It has been an honor and a privilege to have met so many good people on this godawful, shameful journey. So to all my friends I've made while working weird jobs (birders and otherwise) that made life tolerable (birded/drank with me) and to everyone who has lent me a couch or showed me a lifer while on some fucked up birding road trip or were down to be dragged around through the Arcata Bottoms at incredibly slow speeds...you know who you are. I owe you a big fat HJ.

I guess you want to see some pictures or something. I can't share images from the 90's (although I do have slides somewhere) and from most of the 2000's, so I figured I would at least break out the old hard drives and post some random pictures chronicling some more recent Great Successes.

In February 2009, I ditched my desk job in Concord, CA, for a volunteer position with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service on Midway Atoll. I wanted to get to know seabirds...and I got to know them quite well, particularly albatross. Truth be told, they are quite addicting. Anyways, though not really a seabird (although it does overfly vast distances of ocean), one of the birds I met on Midway was the Bristle-thighed Curlew, which is never something I had realistically thought I would ever see up to that point. This is the last North American bird to have it's breeding grounds discovered, and even there it is not very common. Saw hella on Midway though.

After Midway, I went out to Pennsylvania to work with Bat Conservation International, where I got my first taste of the wind energy industry and what it can do to birds and bats. After I finished there, I figured "Well, this is as close as I've ever been to Florida, so I might as well go". So I drove down to the Everglades, and picked up a quantity of lifers. Wood Stork was not one of them, but any place you can go where Wood Storks lurk by the roadside is a good place. Did you know they have pink feet? Ding Darling National Wildlife Refuge, FL.

In the spring of 2010, I took a job in southeast Arizona, one of my favorite places to bird. It's great getting paid to look at birds where thousands of other birders drool about visiting. We lived in Florida Canyon much of the time, and put up a bunch of hummingbird feeders; this Violet-crowned Hummingbird was one of the more unexpected birds to show up.

After Arizona, I thought it would be best to move to the Aleutian Islands for the summer. I got to meet many Asian strays and a shitload of amazing seabirds, but one of my favorite moments was finding this Ancient Murrelet chick after a night of mist-netting Whiskered Auklets. This little chick, just a few days old, was going balls-out for the water, leaping astonishing distances into the air like a goddamned kangaroo in order to get over the seemingly impenetrable boulder field on the beach. We could hear a parent calling to it from the water. I have no idea what terrain had to be conquered or how far that chick had to go to get to where I saw it, but I have no doubt that it made it to the water.

In 2011, I thought it was time to get weird. I completed a road trip through eastern Mexico, which was rad, although not after getting robbed by a cartel...which was not rad. A month after that incident I was back in Mexico because I am crazy, counting migrating raptors for the spring in Chavarrillo, one of best places on the continent for seeing birds of prey during spring migration. I was enamored with the swarms of Mississippi Kites that moved through later in the spring. Que chido.

After Mexico it was off to North Dakota to do Piping Plover monitoring for Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge. It was a weird scene (though not nearly as weird as Mexico), but the birding was great. We had field sites all over the place and some of them had good numbers of Baird's Sparrows, which worked out quite well for me since they are one of the most lusted-after sparrows in the U.S. This bird was on private property, but if you ever get out that way, look for them at Lostwood or Medicine Lake NWR over in eastern Montana. PS fuck frakking.

In January 2012 we were evicted from the Space Station, our squatter house in San Francisco, which sent me packing north for a doomy road trip. In Washington I finally got to meet the iconic Snowy Owl, one of the best birds in existence.

My most-crushed Vague Runt is this drake Tufted Duck, which has been wintering at Lake Merritt, a few minutes from my house, for years. Hopefully he comes back soon so I can crush him for the millionth time. You want to join the crush party? Come visit!

In summer of 2012 I found myself living in San Diego, toiling with Least Terns and Snowy Plovers for the San Diego Zoo, and living in a cabin in Jim and Jim's backyard. Jim and Jim were great landlords, and their backyard was an excellent place to party. Many good times back there. I managed to survive the toxic birding scene, did a lot of great birding and made a few buddies...and I still like terns and plovers. Here is a young Snowy Plover chick that hopefully is a lot bigger and more feathered now.

At the end of 2013 I migrated south to Costa Rica for a few weeks, which is still being chronicled on BB&B because I am so damn lazy...but not as lazy as Don Mastwell, who still needs to enter a bunch of eBird checklists. Anyways, the birding was facemelting. If you are contemplating taking your first trip down that way, don't let some hippie nonbirder friend of yours convince you to go to some other country down there instead where everything has been clearcut to death. Here is an Emerald (Blue-throated) Toucanet from La Cinchona.

Fast forward to this spring, when I moved to the Lower Rio Grande Valley for another couple of wind energy projects. I had ample time to bird and get to the coast, where I really got a heavy dose of migration in the eastern U.S. for the first time. I didn't really know what picture to put up to represent the birding there (a crowd of annoying/clueless photographers would have been appropriate) but I think this crushed Indigo Bunting from South Padre Island sums it up.

What better way to finish than with the rarest Vague Runt I've ever seen? A beloved albatross, no less? I've lead a lot of pelagic trips the last couple years, and this has been the bird of all birds. Thank you Salvin's Albatross, you were my destiny. Half Moon Bay, CA.

The Sparrow of Baird...Waxwings Imitate Art...A Strange Pooping Posture.

Black Terns are very capable of capturing and consuming the hearts and minds of birders. They can be seen migrating over the open ocean, far from land, or as far from the ocean as you can possibly get (such as in North Dakota). These birds can do it all! And look really good the whole time. Photographed near Stanley, ND.

The BB&B interns were getting their daily flogging today (I typically use leather binocular straps; very effective) when one of them weakly suggested that we do a post on North Dakota. As long-time readers may remember, I spent the summer there in 2010, doing Piping Plover monitoring for Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge. It was a pretty lonely summer, but I really enjoyed the job and the birding was great!

So to mix things up, here's some old photos from the vault that have not made it onto the blog yet. I didn't miss any of the area specialties I looked for there, but would love the chance to connect with some of those birds again. Shorebirds, prairie goodness, and a heavy flow of spring warblers made for great birding. I lifered over and over again...Sharp-tailed Grouse, White-rumped Sandpiper, Hudsonian Godwit, Connecticut Warbler, Baird's Sparrow...it was glorious. Definitely an underrated state for birding.

The numbers of southbound Lesser Yellowlegs that came through the area bordered on obscene...I've never seen so many. Weirder readers will be pleased to note the defecating individual. Des Lacs National Wildlife Refuge, ND.

As Birder Number 7, I am happy to tell you that as your GBRS rank rises over the years, the tendency to confuse Lesser and Greater Yellowlegs for one another will fade away like a bad dream. In fact, you will have the startling realization that Lesser Yellowlegs look a lot more like Solitary Sandpipers, and wonder how often those two are getting mixed up. This Lesser Yellowlegs was at Des Lacs National Wildlife Refuge.

There's nothing like getting life birds while on the clock! Baird's Sparrow, probably the most sought-after species in the state, was a great addition to my lifers-at-work list. Baird's are very local in the northwest part of the state where I worked, but not particularly difficult to see if you know where to look. Redmond Lakes, ND.

This Chipping Sparrow nested next to my trailer on the refuge. I always thought it was funny how sparrows are mostly vegetarian for much of the year, then turn into voracious insectivores for a few weeks while they are raising young. Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge.

I did not expect repeated opportunities to inflict serious damage on Cedar Waxwings while in North Dakota, but as you can see the damage was done...over and over again. There were a lot of berry-bearing shrubs next to my trailer, and the waxwings could not resist.

Yet again, I am reminded of Charley Harper somehow. Life imitates art.

The plump and wonderful Cedar Waxwing.

Eastern and Western Kingbirds alike breed in western North Dakota...it's nice to have both around all the time, but it's also nice to have 6 kingbird species on my California list. I reckon this dusky-throated creature is a hatch year bird. Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge.

Something about this scene speaks to me.

Franklin's Gulls are locally common in the northwest part of the state. This young bird doesn't even look like it's bill is done growing yet. Des Lacs National Wildlife Refuge.

An even younger bird, photographed in early August. It's not every day you see a brown-hooded Franklin's Gull. If you are looking for vagrant Franklin's on the east coast or the west coast, don't be on the lookout for anything that looks like this. Des Lacs National Wildlife Refuge.

American White Pelican is a bird that never gets old, no matter where you are. I've lost track of the number of times I've had to stop what I'm doing and watch in awe as a flock of these massive birds wheeled overhead. Des Lacs National Wildlife Refuge.

A recently-fledged Swainson's Hawk assumes a rather strange pooping posture. Maybe this bird has not yet learned how to fire off its feces for the maximum distance. Des Lacs National Wildlife Refuge.

Richardson's Ground-Squirrel is the most visible rodent in the area. Their cuteness can not, and will not, be denied...even the Red-tailed and Ferruginous Hawks who want nothing more than to consume their flesh cry a little every time they kill one. Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge.

The Human Birdwatcher Project Presents: On (Painfully) Defining And Counting Birders

It is well-known that birders care about seeing, listening to, photographing, gleefully petting and (for some) smelling Baird's Sparrows more than any other group of people in the world. The question some birders are asking is...what the hell is a birder anyway? Photographed at Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge, ND.

Recently, cyberwars have been raging over on facebook regarding the true number of birdwatchers that exist in the United States. Cybertears have been shed, the cyberblood has readily flowed...needless to say, cyberfeelings were hurt. Birders seem to not only be unable to agree upon the number of birders out there, they cannot even agree on a definition of a birder. The very fabric of the elite birding community is being ripped to shreds as we speak...a true identity crisis is at hand.

I have always separated birders and birdwatchers; birders being more experienced and addicted, birdwatchers being able to live with themselves if they go a few months without seeing a new or rare bird. For our purposes today, lets lump them and relax enough to use the phrases interchangeably.

Wikipedia simply defines birding/birdwatching as "the observation of birds as a recreational activity", which is true enough, although extremely vague. If someone spends 4 or 5 hours a year doing nothing but looking for birds, does that make them a birder? If you ask me, that's a resounding OH HELL NO. Someone who birds at that level probably experiences birding completely differently than those of us who have been doing it for a while. I'm not passing any judgement, but you and I know this is true. Of course, we all have to start somewhere, but I don't think anybody who has only tried looking at birds a couple of times would comfortably label themselves a birder.

Little known but extremely obvious fact: 99% of Homo sapiens who have knowingly seen a live Curlew Sandpiper in the United States are self-professed birders. Photographed in Imperial Beach, CA.

We here at the Human Birdwatcher Project ("Birders are people too!") have a simple suggestion. I think if we just establish a baseline of bird identification knowledge (a crucial aspect of birding), we can go from there. I would suggest using a number to gauge a person's birderness. Why not say...anyone capable of identifying 30 species of birds can be called (if they consent, of course) a birdwatcher? If you can correctly identify 30 bird species, you've obviously paid attention to birds and spent a fair amount of time with them, even if you do most of your birding on your property or at your bird feeders. I would also argue that unless you are a nonbirding biologist, wildlife rehabber, or exceptionally knowledgeable bird hunter, there are very few people out there who correctly know 30 bird species by sight or sound who do not consider themselves particularly interested in birds. Sure this is a bit of an arbitrary number (should it be 25? Or more like 40?), and some parts of the country have less bird diversity than others...but I think it's a good start.

Vireo Vita looks at the first Gray Kingbird either of of us have ever seen. I don't think she could pass the 30 species number yet, nor would she call herself a birder...but her birding urges are plain for all to see. Photo by Booby Brittany.

Now back to the argument of counting birders....yes, the definition I put forth here is very impractical in terms of being able to look at numbers/demographics and make a count of the birders out there, but no one else has been able to find a very reliable one (aside from looking up American Birding Association members). My only suggestion would be to also look at members of birding email groups and go from there....CALBIRDS, for example (California's state-wide rarity list), has about 2500 members, and if you subtract some of those people (some live out of state, some have subscribed with multiple email addresses, some are likely nonbirders who mistakenly signed up), that is still a solid start for estimating the California birder population. Add that to ABA members who aren't signed up, and the number will climb...but where does the birder counter go from there? Where is the data? EBird?

This brings us to my final point, which is that vast numbers of serious birders do not belong to any birding organization at all. While I have been an ABA and Audubon member, I haven't been one in years...the only birding organization I have pledged my loyalty to is the Global Birder Ranking Scale, and obviously that data is not available to anybody. Many other birders I know are without allegiance to any bird clubs....in fact, I would say that roughly half of my close birdwatching friends do not belong to these organizations...perhaps its a function of youth. Just something the birder pundits should keep in mind when this debate picks up again...a lot of us simply don't show up on the map, so to speak.

What do you think about all this? Think my number 30 definition is bullshit? Were you one of those people watching the flame-sesh on facebook? Let us know in the comments.

The Truth Is Out There

Swainson's Hawks ready to make sweet sweet love. They sexed for quite a prolonged period of time after this photo was taken, I was impressed. Near Camas National Wildlife Refuge, ID.

Everyone keeps asking me..."Seagull, where will you end up this year?". The truth is, I have absolutely no idea, but for the short term, I will go north. I seek the Snowy Owl, after all. Yesterday I began my migration that will culminate in dismal/dreary Port Angeles, WA, on the Olympic Peninsula....a place that some refer to as "where people go to die". I hope that's not true, or else I should seriously reconsider my motivations for going in the first place.

Being a Professional Crastinator, here are some more of my fav birds from last summer. Thank you, come again.

Gray Flycatcher, the baron of the sage. Mono Lake, CA.

Yellow-headed Blackbirds are obviously the best blackbirds. Camas National Wildlife Refuge, ID.

Franklin's Gull...an excellent gull. Redmond Lakes, ND.

Upland Sandpipers were a common sight for me over the summer. I guess that explains my face melting off several times a week. Redmond Lakes, ND.

Baird's Sparrow. If anyone gets a job at Lostwood National Wildlife Refuge this year, I can tell you where the magic Baird's spot is. Otherwise...just go to the Sharp-tailed Grouse blind, and don't misidentify the Grasshopper and Savannah Sparrows there. Redmond Lakes, ND.

Common Nighthawk. Peent! Peent! Peent! Redmond Lakes, ND.

Chestnut-collared Longspur. This was the friendliest longspur I met all year, on the entrance road to Medicine Lake National Wildlife Refuge, MT. Yet another prairie bird with an awesome song and tear-jerking flight display.

Black Tern. Des Lacs National Wildlife Refuge, ND, is awash in Franklin's Gulls, Black Terns and other shorebirds in the late summer. The terns act more like swallows than seabirds there, and are easy to get good photos of.

Before last year, I have never been someplace where Vesper Sparrows plague the landscape. Now that I lived in North Dakota, that has changed. Redmond Lakes, ND.