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For the birds?
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| A mature bald eagle rests high in a tree beside the Buffalo wastewater treatment plant. The eagle was spotted during the Audubon Christmas Count in which birders across the Americas keep a record of numbers and species of birds to be compiled in a general database for future research. Bill Osteheimer, who spotted the eagle, said it was likely that this and other eagles in the area had migrated south from Canada and Alaska for the winter. |
Area birders brave bracing weather for annual Christmas count
By J.R. Logan
For a lot of people, it would take something truly special for them to want to get up before dawn and tromp around on a Sunday morning — especially if the temperature outside was hovering around 10 degrees below zero.
Yet on Sunday, Dec. 21, a hardy group of bird enthusiasts assembled at dawn to participate in the Audubon Society’s 109th annual Christmas Bird Count.
Sipping coffees and pulling on bootstraps, the dedicated birders looked over a series of maps while plotting their beats for the day.
Across the Americas, tens of thousands of avian aficionados volunteer their time to scour their hometown birding haunts to tally numbers and species of birds they find.
Deane Bjerke serves as the local compiler for the Buffalo-area assignment. Each coordinator is responsible for gathering spotters who will work within a circle that is 15 miles in diameter. In a place like Buffalo, where habitats range from the flat water of Lake DeSmet to the foothills of the Big Horn Mountains, Bjerke said birders are often surprised by the diversity of species they find, even in December.
“We know where to go and what we expect to find,” said Bjerke. “In birding, you learn what birds you hear or see in a certain habitat.”
As parts of the Buffalo Christmas Count pie were divvied up to the teams on Sunday morning, each had expectations of the types of feathered flyers they’d see.
Billed as “citizen science in action,” the Christmas Bird Count provides a snapshot of local species at a specific time of the year. Though the parameters aren’t particularly strict, a look at the results over the last 20 years in and around Buffalo shows general trends that help answer bigger questions.
“One of the reasons for the count is to see the distribution of birds,” said Bjerke. He pointed to the evening grosbeak as a species that, though once prevalent in the Buffalo area, has now all but disappeared.
“Since ‘96 it’s been pretty sparse,” Bjerke lamented.
Thus, in the name of science, and in spite of the bitter cold, the hardiest of the Buffalo birding community bundled up and headed out in search of the even hardier birds that lay hunkered down across the county.
Recognizing robins and wrens
Birding is all about telltale signs. A lifetime of experience has given Bjerke the ability to identify a particular species of bird based on any number of characteristics.
“A real good birder can do it by ear or by sight,” he explained.
Though Bjerke is modest about his keen bird instincts, he said the trained eye knows a bird by the shape of its silhouette while it rests in a tree or even the part of the tree in which it sits.
Flight is another dead giveaway when it comes to bird IDs.
“You can see if it flies straight, hurky-jerky or smooth,” said Bjerke.
In many cases, sounds can be even more important than sights when identifying species. As sunrise beckons the warbles of songbirds, the experienced birder plays a biological game of “name that tune” to decipher which bird belongs to which song.
But to get to the point where you can hear a bird better than you can see it is a matter of practice.
“I like to hear the bird and see what it is so it registers in my mind,” he said.
As a rule, most birders won’t leave their houses unless armed with a pair of binoculars and a trusty fieldbook. With greater proficiency, birders can become obsessed with peeking into a world of strange and exotic avifauna, said Bjerke.
“People travel all over the world to add new species to their life list,” he insisted. A life list is a birder’s record of all identified species he or she has spotted over an entire lifetime.
During the Christmas Count, the list of identified species varies, but typically runs somewhere around 35 to 40 species — from the diminutive song sparrow to the statuesque bald eagle.
Inside the bird brain
Bill and Tracey Ostheimer sat parked in their pickup trunk on one of the causeways above the sewer ponds at the county’s wastewater treatment plant. The car idled as they spotted a bevy of birds that lined the edge of the only open water on any of the ponds.
“It’s always interesting to me that there are birds that choose to winter here rather than in somewhere like Arizona,” joked Bill Ostheimer as he shook off the cold. The couple spotted a few mallards and a couple of golden eye ducks but said the frozen ponds limited the water fowl they expected to see.
With their slice of the project-area pie located east of Buffalo, there weren’t many surprises in the types of birds they were seeing in the first hour or so.
A few vigilant bald eagles perched above the ponds, probably from northern Canada or Alaska but wintering in Alaska, said Bill Ostheimer.
A red-tailed hawk sat stoically only a few hundred yards away.
In addition to the birds of prey, the couple said this was a popular spot to see crows on their way to gorge themselves on rotten food at the dump just over the next hill.
This year marked the fifth consecutive year the Ostheimers participated in the Christmas Bird Count in Buffalo. As biologists, the two take a special interest in the program.
“It does a pretty good job of providing scientific rigor,” said Bill Ostheimer. He noted the data’s insight into shifting species patterns, possibly related to climate change, especially over long periods of time. “If you do this in 1,000 places over 50 years, that’s a pretty good data set,” he said.
Yet even with the scientific benefits in mind, many might wonder what compels someone to get out of bed early on such an uninviting morning to watch birds.
When asked, the couple shrugged their shoulders. “It’s fun to be able to identify something and get out and watch it,” responded Tracey Ostheimer.
After a pause, Bill Ostheimer laughed. “We’re just junkies. Bird junkies.”
Winter birds of Buffalo — some common, some curious
The American dipper — Typically found in small creeks (Deane Bjerke spots them while walking along Clear Creek), the American dipper has feathers coated in an oil that allows them to dive under water while looking for food. With a hard freeze, finding a crack in the ice that allows them into the moving water can be difficult.
House finch — These small birds were originally from the Southwest, but spread over much of the continental United States during the second half of the 20th century. “Every feeder in town has a house finch,” said Bjerke.
Northern rough-legged hawk — This large hawk breeds in northern Canada, but prefers to come south for winters. Its name derives from its feathered legs that are covered down to the ankles. The Buffalo count spotted only seven of these hawks in 2008, but saw 22 the year before. “I like predator birds,” said Bjerke. “They survive because they know how to catch what they’re going to eat. They have to find their niche.”
Mountain chickadee — Not to be confused with a black-capped chickadee, the mountain chickadee can be seen year-round in and around Buffalo. It is one of the most common birds in the Western mountain forests and is distinguished from other chickadees by a white stripe just above its eye. “Everybody likes chickadees,” said Bjerke. “It’s just a cheerful little bird.”
Yet on Sunday, Dec. 21, a hardy group of bird enthusiasts assembled at dawn to participate in the Audubon Society’s 109th annual Christmas Bird Count.
Sipping coffees and pulling on bootstraps, the dedicated birders looked over a series of maps while plotting their beats for the day.
Across the Americas, tens of thousands of avian aficionados volunteer their time to scour their hometown birding haunts to tally numbers and species of birds they find.
Deane Bjerke serves as the local compiler for the Buffalo-area assignment. Each coordinator is responsible for gathering spotters who will work within a circle that is 15 miles in diameter. In a place like Buffalo, where habitats range from the flat water of Lake DeSmet to the foothills of the Big Horn Mountains, Bjerke said birders are often surprised by the diversity of species they find, even in December.
“We know where to go and what we expect to find,” said Bjerke. “In birding, you learn what birds you hear or see in a certain habitat.”
As parts of the Buffalo Christmas Count pie were divvied up to the teams on Sunday morning, each had expectations of the types of feathered flyers they’d see.
Billed as “citizen science in action,” the Christmas Bird Count provides a snapshot of local species at a specific time of the year. Though the parameters aren’t particularly strict, a look at the results over the last 20 years in and around Buffalo shows general trends that help answer bigger questions.
“One of the reasons for the count is to see the distribution of birds,” said Bjerke. He pointed to the evening grosbeak as a species that, though once prevalent in the Buffalo area, has now all but disappeared.
“Since ‘96 it’s been pretty sparse,” Bjerke lamented.
Thus, in the name of science, and in spite of the bitter cold, the hardiest of the Buffalo birding community bundled up and headed out in search of the even hardier birds that lay hunkered down across the county.
Recognizing robins and wrens
Birding is all about telltale signs. A lifetime of experience has given Bjerke the ability to identify a particular species of bird based on any number of characteristics.
“A real good birder can do it by ear or by sight,” he explained.
Though Bjerke is modest about his keen bird instincts, he said the trained eye knows a bird by the shape of its silhouette while it rests in a tree or even the part of the tree in which it sits.
Flight is another dead giveaway when it comes to bird IDs.
“You can see if it flies straight, hurky-jerky or smooth,” said Bjerke.
In many cases, sounds can be even more important than sights when identifying species. As sunrise beckons the warbles of songbirds, the experienced birder plays a biological game of “name that tune” to decipher which bird belongs to which song.
But to get to the point where you can hear a bird better than you can see it is a matter of practice.
“I like to hear the bird and see what it is so it registers in my mind,” he said.
As a rule, most birders won’t leave their houses unless armed with a pair of binoculars and a trusty fieldbook. With greater proficiency, birders can become obsessed with peeking into a world of strange and exotic avifauna, said Bjerke.
“People travel all over the world to add new species to their life list,” he insisted. A life list is a birder’s record of all identified species he or she has spotted over an entire lifetime.
During the Christmas Count, the list of identified species varies, but typically runs somewhere around 35 to 40 species — from the diminutive song sparrow to the statuesque bald eagle.
Inside the bird brain
Bill and Tracey Ostheimer sat parked in their pickup trunk on one of the causeways above the sewer ponds at the county’s wastewater treatment plant. The car idled as they spotted a bevy of birds that lined the edge of the only open water on any of the ponds.
“It’s always interesting to me that there are birds that choose to winter here rather than in somewhere like Arizona,” joked Bill Ostheimer as he shook off the cold. The couple spotted a few mallards and a couple of golden eye ducks but said the frozen ponds limited the water fowl they expected to see.
With their slice of the project-area pie located east of Buffalo, there weren’t many surprises in the types of birds they were seeing in the first hour or so.
A few vigilant bald eagles perched above the ponds, probably from northern Canada or Alaska but wintering in Alaska, said Bill Ostheimer.
A red-tailed hawk sat stoically only a few hundred yards away.
In addition to the birds of prey, the couple said this was a popular spot to see crows on their way to gorge themselves on rotten food at the dump just over the next hill.
This year marked the fifth consecutive year the Ostheimers participated in the Christmas Bird Count in Buffalo. As biologists, the two take a special interest in the program.
“It does a pretty good job of providing scientific rigor,” said Bill Ostheimer. He noted the data’s insight into shifting species patterns, possibly related to climate change, especially over long periods of time. “If you do this in 1,000 places over 50 years, that’s a pretty good data set,” he said.
Yet even with the scientific benefits in mind, many might wonder what compels someone to get out of bed early on such an uninviting morning to watch birds.
When asked, the couple shrugged their shoulders. “It’s fun to be able to identify something and get out and watch it,” responded Tracey Ostheimer.
After a pause, Bill Ostheimer laughed. “We’re just junkies. Bird junkies.”
Winter birds of Buffalo — some common, some curious
The American dipper — Typically found in small creeks (Deane Bjerke spots them while walking along Clear Creek), the American dipper has feathers coated in an oil that allows them to dive under water while looking for food. With a hard freeze, finding a crack in the ice that allows them into the moving water can be difficult.
House finch — These small birds were originally from the Southwest, but spread over much of the continental United States during the second half of the 20th century. “Every feeder in town has a house finch,” said Bjerke.
Northern rough-legged hawk — This large hawk breeds in northern Canada, but prefers to come south for winters. Its name derives from its feathered legs that are covered down to the ankles. The Buffalo count spotted only seven of these hawks in 2008, but saw 22 the year before. “I like predator birds,” said Bjerke. “They survive because they know how to catch what they’re going to eat. They have to find their niche.”
Mountain chickadee — Not to be confused with a black-capped chickadee, the mountain chickadee can be seen year-round in and around Buffalo. It is one of the most common birds in the Western mountain forests and is distinguished from other chickadees by a white stripe just above its eye. “Everybody likes chickadees,” said Bjerke. “It’s just a cheerful little bird.”
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