Some friends just alerted me to a creative and though-provoking post about “birding personality types” at Birding is Fun! and I thought it well worth sharing. Take a moment to read their descriptions, and then consider… which bird are you?
At first I assumed I was an Owl, but after reading through the more detailed descriptions, I find I relate much more closely to the Shorebirds. I’ve never thought of myself as a “people person” before. I wonder what my friends would say. Anyone?
“I’m interested in learning how to watch birds. How can I get started?”
The question was music to my ears. Who doesn’t love to share their passion with someone else? It wasn’t so long ago that I was a new birder, trying to juggle a crummy pair of old binoculars with a mysterious field guide, all while trying (unsuccessfully) to keep an eye on the bird I was trying to identify. I’ve come a ways since those early days and even though I still have much to learn, I’m eager to pass on my limited birding skills.
Do you watch birds? And if so, are you a “lister”? That is, when you go out to look at birds, do you keep a list of which species you’ve seen?
While most of us start listing for our own sense of accomplishment (or compulsion!), those notebooks can actually help ornithologists determine where the birds live, whether their populations are thriving, stable, or in decline, and the human and environmental factors affecting them.
At the same time, we birders can benefit from one another’s sightings. Are you looking for a particular species to add to your life list? Did you know that you can find out where others have seen that bird?
If you missed Part 1, I’m summarizing some observations made by our daughter, the anthropologist, about our birding tribe.
Language
Any interest group will have it’s own special vocabulary, and birders are no different. For example, there’s a difference between birdwatchers, birders, and listers (or twitchers, if you’re British). Each word has its own nuance. “Birdwatchers” are recreational birders, enjoying birds wherever they find them but not really going out of their way or keeping track of what they’ve seen. They may actually have the most fun, since there’s no pressure and they take the time to really look at the birds they see.
Anthropologists, being scientists, are good at taking complex topics and breaking them down into manageable pieces. Whereas my husband views birders as nice-but-slightly-eccentric people, our anthropologist daughter dissects us into pieces—clothing, rituals, language, and the like. I took notes and came up with this list. Although our daughter is not, herself, a birder, I think she knows us pretty well. What do you think?
Clothing
The first thing most “normal” people notice about a group of birders is what we’re wearing. A floppy hat is essential for keeping the sun out of our eyes and preventing sunburn. A few hat pins are acceptable decoration, especially if they’re from exceptional birding locations. Beige or green pants and shirt are popular, as are vests with lots of pockets. Tennis shoes are fine, but comfortable hiking boots are preferred. Practicality trumps fashion, but we do have a dress code: nothing flashy, blend in with your surroundings, be prepared to be outdoors. A t-shirt with a bird on it is good, and you get extra points if the design is funny.
From the big questions (how many species of birds are there?) to specifics (should the Bullock’s Oriole and the Baltimore Oriole be merged into one species called the Northern Oriole?), birders have long endured a bit of confusion. It seems even the most eminent ornithologists disagree on these and similar conundrums.
In 1946, a paper published by Ernst Mayr asserted that there were 8,616 species of bird worldwide. Today, the consensus is that there are closer to 10,000 although estimates vary widely. What happened?
In 1973, scientists decided that the two most common American orioles, the Bullock’s Oriole in the west and the Baltimore Oriole in the east, were really the same bird. Where their ranges overlapped, they mated and produced fertile young. Then, in 1995, the two species were separated again! Why?
It was a brisk fall day. A friend and I were hidden among the cattails, binoculars in hand, field guide open between us. We were both new at birding. The wide assortment of ducks bobbing out on the reservoir, nondescript in their eclipse plumage, was giving us fits. That’s why we had come–to learn how to identify fall ducks.
Scanning the opposite shoreline, I was ticking off mallards, shovelers, gadwalls… and gasp! What was that man doing with a gun!!? He had it pointed straight at us!
We hastily decided that this was neither the time nor place to be learning our waterfowl. Backing out of the vegetation, we turned and hurried for the car. It wasn’t until later, when we were in the car heading home, that we realized what we should have known all along. It was hunting season. Reflecting back, it’s unlikely the hunters even realized we were there, outfitted as we were in khaki and olive drab, skulking in the thick riparian foliage.
The gift-giving season is upon us, and many people are scratching their heads, trying to figure out the perfect gift for that special birder in their life. I thought I’d make it a little easier for you and spell out exactly what I would like to receive this year. I bet other birders would like many of the same things as I do. (I seem to be into lists lately.)
This is not another list of what to buy your favorite birder for Christmas. There are plenty of lists like that already; every birding magazine and website seems to have one. Most suggestions seem more helpful to the makers of the products featured than they are to the gift giver… or the recipient.
See, the problem is that birding doesn’t really require a lot of stuff. Sure, you spend your wad on good optics, and you need a field guide or two. But one of benefits of birdwatching is that you don’t need a lot of gear. Once you’re set, you can get on about the business of watching birds, which is really the point. Birders do not collect birds—they collect sightings of birds.
Not to miss an opportunity, many manufacturers have come up with “birding accessories”—things like special tote bags for your book and binos, many-pocketed vests, volumes on where to go birding, and journals with bird drawings on the cover. I’m sure all those are useful, but they’re certainly not regarded as must-haves. An old fanny pack, internet access, and a 99¢ notepad work just as well.
Instead of telling you what to buy for your gift list birder, I’m going to make a suggestion for a gift you can’t buy. No one ever said that gifts have to cost a lot of money.
Lately, my husband has taken to calling me a “Beak Geek.” I’m not sure whether or not to be insulted at this or take it as a compliment. I thought I’d ask a few other friends if the label fits. They hedged a lot. Hmmm. So I did an internet search and found the following:
… There is a strange, but distinct correlation between the last time your house was thoroughly cleaned and the development of your birding interest.
… you’re hopeless at remembering people’s names, yet you know the scientific names of all birds ever seen in North America.
… someone is trying to sell you some swamp land in a 3rd world country and you actually are interested! —Bill Kossack
… you have a trip list from your honeymoon.
… for your wedding anniversary he takes you to the Brownsville City Dump to see the Mexican crow! —Keri Dawkins
[At this point I’d like to point out that, while I’ve never been to the Brownsville City Dump (because we’d heard that the Mexican crows aren’t there any more), my loving sweetie did take me to the Ft. Lauderdale dump to look for birds. In addition, we spent our 25th wedding anniversary at a dumpy motel near Alamosa because it was near two wildlife refuges… and he’s not even a birder!]
Mountain Plover 